<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>What Chaos Wrought by ADashOfStarshine (ADashOfInsanity)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015637">What Chaos Wrought</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADashOfInsanity/pseuds/ADashOfStarshine'>ADashOfStarshine (ADashOfInsanity)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>League of Legends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel/Demon Relationship, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Chaos v Order AU, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Food Kink, M/M, Master/Pet, Nightbringer/Dawnbringer skins, Size Difference, Temperature Play, Threesome - M/M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:33:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADashOfInsanity/pseuds/ADashOfStarshine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A fiend of chaos, twinned to a seer of order, Aphelios and Alune have long believed themselves to be the proof Order and Chaos can co-exist. Yet as war rages across Runeterra, they find themselves helpless to unite each side - not without allies. And so, led by Alune’s divine guidance, Aphelios finds himself facing his greatest trial yet. To solicit an audience with the self-proclaimed King of the Night and recruit him to his cause. </p><p>Yet it won’t just be the court politics that Aphelios has to survive. He must battle against his own chaotic nature for Vladimir’s hellish court is a veritable paradise for fiend and fiendish alike. And to make the matter even more dire, it appears the King has captured an Angel.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jericho Swain/Aphelios/Vladimir, Jericho Swain/Vladimir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After snuffing out the fire and scattering the ashes, Aphelios couldn’t help but wonder if this was the last camp he’d ever make.  Fiends did not usually need to create external fires – the roil of Chaos churning through their veins was more than enough to ward off the most frigid Winters. However, this was no ordinary night. His remaining supply of Noctum flowers had been ground into a fine paste, added to a bowl of water from a nearby stream, before being boiled over the fire. The result was a thick tar-like substance, enough to fill a single vial. This ultra-concentrated poison could drop a whole village dead. But not a fiend. Not one who had become so accustomed to its agony.</p><p><em>“Make haste, brother,”</em> Alune told him, her voice stronger still when he downed the contents of his hipflask. The weaker Noctum no longer made him splutter and spit up blood. He still felt it sear its way down his throat and set fire to his stomach, but that was the usual pain by now. He licked the dregs off his pointed fangs before standing to view the road ahead.</p><p><em>“Even the night seems longer here</em>,” Alune commented, as he picked up the pace and began to trudge down the mountainside.</p><p>
  <em>“I can feel the Chaos thicken, like a very blight upon the air itself.”</em>
</p><p>It didn’t seem entirely fair to call Chaos a blight as they spread their message of peace and unity. Was he not a being of Chaos?</p><p>“<em>I’m not calling you a blight,”</em> Alune assured him, <em>“I am trying to say that the concentration of raw Chaos here has made its mark on the landscape. Look how little grows here, like an area affected by blight.”</em></p><p>The valley was indeed a grey wasteland compared to its surroundings. He strode through thorny brush and withered grasses, feeling the heat of the ground through the soles of his feet. The surrounding regions were lush with grassy meadows and plentiful farmland, but this… this place was desolate. Not a bird sung from the ashen remnants of trees. Not an insect skittered across stalk and stem. The air was getting more sulphurous as he descended, yet despite the fact he approached an active lava-field, none of the fertile black soil remained from past volcanic eruption.</p><p><em>“I feel like there was a battle here, once,”</em> Alune continued, “<em>Where Chaos triumphed over the very earth itself.”</em></p><p>There were battles everywhere, surely? The war never ended. As soon as one generation wiped each other out, the primordial forces of nature would spit out another host of winged dawnbringers and horned nightbringers, already fit to continue where their ancestors left off. He and Alune had received a very typical birthing for their kinds, except for the small matter of the eclipse. Chaos thrived in darkness whilst Order rose with the light. It appeared then that the primordial earth had been utterly confused by the presence of a lunar eclipse. Neither fully dark nor fully light, the result was a being neither fully chaotic nor fully orderly, neither yet both at the same time. Within moments of its formation, this being was unable to sustain itself in such a divisive universe, and so, two half-beings were formed. One of Darkness, one of Light, each with half a soul to their existence, incomplete without their other part. Or so Alune told him from her readings in the temple. When they arose from the ground, they were helpless for a day or two – as many newly born things were. In that brief time, a roving band of mortals happened upon the twin beings. Recognising their natures by sight, the mortals picked up the fledgling Dawnbringer and carried her off to their encampment. Whilst doing so, they left the Nightbringer to perish.</p><p>But neither fiends nor angels require mortals to raise them. The travellers should have run the infant through for after those two vulnerable days, Aphelios was ready to take to his feet and walk the war-torn Runeterra. His instincts took hold, teaching him to hunt and scavenge, to make use of his claws and teeth. He stalked small prey, grabbing rabbits from their burrows and eating them raw. He devoured plant life until he had determined which were fuel and which were hurtful.  He learned to swim on his search for fish and crustaceans – using rocks and simple tools to break the meat from the shell.  Occasionally he would meet packs of fellow predators, offering his speed and resourcefulness to join their hunts. He would run with wolves and share their kills. Build shelters out of fallen branches and fight bears for use of their caves. Never did Aphelios stop travelling. Never did he consider finding one spot, a permanent territory, and settle down. He had but two instincts, two thoughts, beyond his need to survive.</p><p>He must find his other half.</p><p>And he must get stronger for when that moment arrived.</p><p>Stronger. <em>Stronger</em>. It was hard to want anything else when he was tearing off feathers with his fangs and blood flowed thick across his jaw. The taste of blood, be it bird beast or mortal, sent him into a frenzy. He picked on bigger prey, challenged whole woodlands, even ventured into mortal towns when the bloodlust arose. He must get stronger. He needed to get stronger. For when he reached his other half, he would need to fight, to kill, to hunt, for them both. He had to be strong enough that nothing and no one could endanger his other half once he found them. And for that he needed stronger opponents, more opponents, deadlier prey…</p><p>Mortal towns and villages began to leave offerings out to him after he stalked their streets. Rumours of a fiend at their borders travelled fast, resulting in scared mortals leaving out shrines of food and clothing to keep him out. It was through such that Aphelios discovered the art of cooking meat. A village left for him a boar, still roasting above its firepit. The fire had been wondrous. So had the warm winter clothing the villagers had provided. He devoured the boar over many hours and donned the soft garments as if in a reverie. He stayed beside that particular town for four days and four nights, satisfied by their placations. That was until the fifth night where they tried to offer him a coloured water that made him sleepy. He had to fight back the exhaustion just in time to see armed mortals surrounding him. Their feeble attempts at sedating him did not work. He slaughtered them all and took all the clothing, gloves and edible items he could carry from their corpses. Satisfied with his efforts to become even stronger, he then moved on, still searching, still training.</p><p>Of course, not all his travelling was free meals and easily-slain mortals.  At times, he chose too-strong opponents and was forced to hide and lick his wounds, wondering if he would ever be strong enough to save his other half if he met that foe again. Sometimes he fought too hard – tearing muscle and skin as he battled against inanimate objects. Often, if he had just tasted mortal blood, he would go into a fighting frenzy, regardless of his surroundings. More often than not, it would be his own blood that flowed then. Suffering was just part of the journey. The pain only strengthened him as he put one bloody foot before the other on his predestined path. He did not know where he was going, or where his other half was. He just knew that if he kept on going, if he got strong enough, he would find them eventually. And that was all the motivation he needed.</p><p>He found her one moonlit night, many years after their birthing. His travels had taken him up the sheer side of a mountain range, up to where his head span and his fingers ached. Atop an icy plateau sat a field of strange flowers that Aphelios had never encountered before. He did not know whether these plants were food or foe but hunger drove him to take a mouthful. The agony was almost instantaneous. He was certain that he’d become the flowers’ prey when suddenly a voice like no other rang out in his mind.</p><p>
  <em>“Brother! Oh, Brother it is you!”</em>
</p><p>He’d found his other half amongst the Noctum flowers. The full moon shone down upon them as she presented him with his name and the tragic nature of their existence. One being, split apart by the world’s great divide, but now… now they could be whole. Alune had lived for a time with the mortals before a host of Dawnbringers had come by and taken her from their hands.  Upon identifying her as a seer, they took her to their Temple of Light – only for the place to be beset by agents of Chaos mere weeks later. The Dawnbringers sealed their seer into the temple to prevent her from falling into darkness. Yet the host had then been slain, leaving her trapped in the holy site, unable to reach the outside world. The magic of the temple had sustained her through an endless supply of fresh water and produce, but her existence had been ever so lonely until a year later when fellow Dawnbringers dared reach for the temple once more. Unlike Aphelios, she had not spent her entire existence alone, but she had never felt truly happy without her other half.</p><p>It was the Noctum flowers, a plant that only bloomed at the full moon, that had finally brought them together. The eclipse at their birth had forever tied them to the wax and wane of the moon and finally, the full moon’s presence within those blossoms, within Aphelios, had tied them back together.  From that moment onwards, Aphelios had not gone an hour without the influence of the Noctum on him. To be parted from Alune again would be torture far beyond the pain of the poison coursing through his veins. She was all the company he’d ever had, but she was all the company he’d ever needed. She taught him words for things he’d experienced so many times without truly understanding. She caught him how the mortals used those words to communicate with each other. She introduced him to music, to dancing, by playing the instruments in her temple and giggling as he attempted to fulfil her instruction on how to move to them. A hundred and one things he never knew suddenly became as easy as breathing. Cooking, sewing, weaving, washing, telling the time by the sun and moon, navigating by the stars… She knew so much, and now; they knew so much. Perhaps never physically, but now, moving as one, they were whole again. Her voice, his eyes, her guidance, his movement – it was how it was meant to be.</p><p>They realised, after encountering the remnants of a battlefield, that they had achieved something remarkable. That they <em>were</em> something remarkable. Chaos and Order living side by side, existing as a joined entity, co-existing and thriving… Everywhere they went they saw traces of the eternal war. Of Chaos versus Order, Darkness versus Light. But did it have to be that way? Were they always fated to wipe each out and start again? Surely not. Surely, if Aphelios and Alune could thrive together, then so could others? Chaos and Order could co-exist. Fiend and angel could learn to live and love each other? They just had to show the world this. Maybe, just maybe, once everyone understood there would be no more need for fighting. No more need to catch mortals in the crossfire. Now they were together, they believed they could achieve anything.  But…well, they were but one figure traveling across the countryside. If they were to persuade whole armies without being cut down, they would need allies, powerful ones at that.</p><p>Thus, their current path. Through the Chaos-stricken lava fields and towards the castle that lay at the mountain’s edge. Whilst generations of Dawnbringers and Nightbringers had massacred each other, Alune had found one name in her records that remained constant - The King of Night. An ancient being of Chaos that had outlived eras by picking and choosing his fights. He only emerged from time to time, leaving centuries between public appearances. However, history told that he retreated into a castle of his own design, shrouded in the darkness of the mountains to the West. It had taken much researching for Alune to find the mountains history spoke of and many months of traveling for Aphelios to get them there. However, the King of Night’s castle could be no more than a day away now. On the other side of this lava field was another valley, which would lead them to uncharted territory. An un-inked part on every map Alune consulted, nestled between several peaks, would be the perfect place to hide an entire castle. Or so his sister had told him.  Aphelios had never encountered a castle in all his travels, he’d never trod into grand-enough civilisation to encounter much more than a large town. However, if the King of Night was indeed ahead of them, and was amenable to their plans, they would have gained a powerful ally. The ability to survive so many generations, and to build a permanent settlement without the Dawnbringers destroying it, proved that the King of Night was strong in a way they needed. They needed an experienced, powerful, ally who had the ability to understand how long this war had gone on, and how much longer it would last if they didn’t change tactics now.</p><p>So onwards Aphelios marched. Not stopping for food or rest, he left the lava field behind before midday, before the sun could curb his energy or weaken his resolve. Even as nature resurged around him, there was no sign of people having passed this way. An entire castle would demand footfall – supplies in particular for its residents to eat. There must be a road or path somewhere to its location. Yet, so far, not a soul around but the one they shared between them.  It was many more hours before Aphelios encountered something close to civilisation. A sturdy stone bridge attached one bank to another, breaching the gap over a fast-flowing river that seemed to come straight from its mountain source.  It was many hours later that he encountered any clue that they were traveling the right way.</p><p>
  <em>“Look Phel, a path!”</em>
</p><p>They cut across grassland and met a road running perpendicular to their progress. Aphelios was forced to climb up and over a black stone wall that ran either side of the thoroughfare. This route had been clearly carved into the hillside, complete with mile markers and the occasional alcove for stopping and resting in.</p><p><em>“We’re in uncharted territory now</em>,” Alune told him, “<em>They must have built a road here for a reason though. And kept it so well-maintained.”</em></p><p>Hopefully to lead them to a castle. The mile markers were counting down to something ahead. Aphelios kept to the walls, in case some sort of vehicle came hurtling by. There were definite wagon tracks in the ground now. The ground had been disturbed, and recently too by mortals both on foot and on their beasts of burden. Aphelios wondered if they were simply approaching a mortal settlement, but his concerns were proved groundless as they followed the road around yet another corner.</p><p><em>“There it is!”</em> Alune cried, “<em>The castle!”</em></p><p>The King of Night’s castle was a column of black spires against the surrounding landscape. The afternoon was swiftly turning to evening, but the skies between those towers were already as dark as night. Lights glittered from high above them as flocks of birds rose and dove, granting twisting shadows to the fortress’ many visible walkways and lofty ramparts. Aphelios thought of spines, needles perhaps, as he stared at the structure, with its many long straight points in contrast against the gentleness of its sloped surroundings. Perhaps the builders were trying to impale a massive beast by placing a bed of spikes beneath the sky? Whatever the shape was for, it didn’t seem to intimidate the mass of mortals coming and going from the castle’s grounds. From their approach, Aphelios could see barrels being rolled in from laden wagons. Mortals with long poles between them carried in whole livestock – cows, pigs and sheep, into the castle’s entrance, whilst cages on wheeled trolleys brought unfamiliar animals in their wake. Aphelios watched as a mortal attempted to restrain a large and colourful bird that had gotten loose. The mortal grabbed the bird by its neck and throttled it. Aphelios felt Alune’s disgust across their connection, however he didn’t so much as flinch at the sight. All these animals were undoubtedly food for the many people who lived in this castle and meat needed to die first. It was just the natural way of things.</p><p>“<em>It just seems so cruel,”</em> Alune commented, “<em>I know they must eat but there must be a more considerate way to go about it.”</em></p><p>As wheelbarrows of produce were escorted in, Aphelios began to wonder whether this was their regular haul or whether the castle was preparing for something. The sheer amount of food and drink being taken inside could feed a large army, and surely a castle of such magnitude had means to feed itself? This was a lot of food all in one go. As they carried on through the grounds, he felt increasing discontent from his other half, prompting him to stop in his tracks.</p><p><em>“Be careful Brother,”</em> Alune told him as he slowed to a halt, “<em>I sense a concentration of Chaos unlike any other within those walls.”</em></p><p>They had come seeking an ancient being of Chaos, that was only to be expected.</p><p><em>“I do not worry for the King,”</em> Alune continued, <em>“I worry for you. Who knows what influence that much ambient Chaos will have on your person? You are a fiend after all, I fear that entering those halls will amplify all the worst things within you that Chaos has to offer. It might turn you into what you were before…before you met me.”</em></p><p>But there wasn’t anything wrong with what he was before he met her. Besides, if the Chaos was amplified within him, wouldn’t it bring out both the best and worst attributes within him? He was a Fiend. He was Chaos. Surely growing that would just mean more of himself, a better version of himself, why did she think the Chaos would make him worse? What was wrong with how he was before?</p><p><em>“Before we met, you acted in the way of the beast,”</em> Alune told him, <em>“You were a slave to your carnal desires. You ate, you slept and you fought. You killed without remorse. I can’t have you return to that state. Your existence was terrible. You lived instinctive, wild, in darkness…”</em></p><p>But Chaos is darkness, Aphelios thought back at her. Chaos is carnal desire. Chaos is raw and instinctual – a force of nature as much as light, the moon and the earth itself. Each fiend possessed an innate desire that drove them onwards – his was the desire to be strong, to fight, to protect her. If you removed that desire, those instincts, that darkness… Then he wouldn’t be Chaos anymore. He wouldn’t be himself. After her description of Chaos as a blight earlier, he still had a foul taste in his mouth. It was like she refused to believe there was goodness in Chaos, that you could live a true life as a being of darkness.</p><p><em>“No!”</em> Alune protested, <em>“No, that’s not true. I just want a better life for you Phel. You can channel your inner darkness and still live a civilised life! Just look at that castle ahead! Is the King not a Chaotic being too? He’s built a whole settlement! You can be Chaotic and not eat whatever you find on the ground! You don’t have to…to act cruelly like the others of your kind. There’s a calm within you brother, just don’t forget it”</em></p><p>He felt like she was judging him from a place of privilege. He hadn’t grown up with mortals taking care of him. He hadn’t had fellow Nightbringers to lecture him on how the other side was crude and evil compared to the glory of his own kind. He hadn’t grown up with books and music and knives… He’d never held a weapon before she provided them to him – he’d survived with tooth and nail.  His wildness would always be part of his Chaos. Civilisation had yet to offer him anything but fire and pitchforks.</p><p><em>“Then let it prove otherwise</em>,” Alune told him, “<em>Let us go visit the King and see how Chaos lives amongst civilised mortals. Just…don’t give into your savage instincts if they arise. We need to talk to him Brother.”</em></p><p>He pushed down his hurt feelings like he did every contrary emotion that opposed their plans. To prove that Order and Chaos could coincide, they had to cooperate. Part of him wondered why he was always the one compromising, but that line of thought was always less than productive.  So, he merely continued down the road towards the King of Night’s castle, feeling the air thicken around him with every step closer to the fortress. She was right. The force of Chaos around this place was so powerful it swamped its surroundings in a foggy humidity. The scent of fire and brimstone, combined with the taste of raw magic, sent his heart racing and gave greater strength to his movement. Alune may fear this, but this was the environment where fiends thrived. It wasn’t giving him any urge to go hunting or terrorise a small town. Instead he felt like he had become more. More aware, more able, just…more.</p><p>Mortals scattered out of his way, leaving him a clear path to the castle’s entrance. Even the armoured guards parted to let him through, not one word or gesture impeded his progress into the fortress proper. Aphelios could feel Alune’s alarm and suspicion at this. It was indeed peculiar. Though it made sense that the mortals would move away from the presence of a Nightbringer, presumably because they worked for one, the guards’ lack of caution was absurd. Regardless, it made his progress very easy as he entered the grand entry hall.</p><p>They had expected something grandiose but this antechamber exceeded those expectations. The octagonal room was several stories tall, reaching up to a pointed stained-glass roof that stained all sunlight passing through a bloody red. The floor had been mosaiced in many shades of gold, brown and red making the entire surface look like a deep swirling abyss that drew you into its centre. The mortals ferrying crates and barrels back and forth seemed used to this, but Aphelios was momentarily hypnotised by the design that seemed to move the longer you stared at it. Six of the eight walls contained large arched doors, each a hive of activity. Aphelios wasn’t sure which he should be attempting first, or whether he should try to communicate with one of the guards. However, there was no need, for Alune suddenly gasped</p><p>
  <em>“Brother! Look! Up there!”</em>
</p><p>Aphelios looked. High above the mesmerising mosaic was an ornate golden balcony that lined one half of the room. An equally gilt spiral staircase led up to it on either side, however it certainly wasn’t the décor that had attracted Alune’s attention. Standing atop the balcony, surveying the bustle of activity below, was a figure surrounded by armoured guards. He was beacon of bright white in such gloomy surroundings, his shimmering silver armour looking entirely out of place in the Chaos-laden fortress. The Dawnbringer, for what else could this man be, looked like he was ready for a battle. Silver plate with blue embellishments let off its own ambient glow, only diminished by the man’s long glowing white hair – tipped in icy blue. His long white cape drifted unnaturally in the air about him as if on a breeze only it could detect. Aphelios looked for his weapon but only spotted the man’s phantasmal left hand – a bright blue armoured gauntlet that seemed entirely constructed from the Dawnbringer’s own power.</p><p><em>“Why is there an angel here?!”</em> Alune exclaimed, “<em>Do you think he’s a prisoner of the King?”</em></p><p>The man was surrounded by guards, six in total, but he wasn’t in chains.  The Dawnbringer met Aphelios’ gaze, raising one stern eyebrow as the Nightbringer continued to stare up at him. A shiver passed down Aphelios’ spine as they looked at each other. His instincts were telling him that this angel was not someone to be messed with – a foe perhaps too great even for the pair of them. He had to be a powerful source of Order to be able to survive in such a place. Yet the question remained, why was he here?</p><p>The Dawnbringer turned on his heel as a seventh guard walked up to the little group atop the balcony. After exchanging a few words with the angel, the guard then left again, leaving the armed escort to depart through yet another set of double doors.</p><p>“<em>Follow them!”</em> Alune ordered, “<em>Quick, we must talk with him!”</em></p><p>But they were here to talk with the King of Night? That surely wasn’t him and they had no idea that following a Dawnbringer would get them any closer to him.</p><p><em>“That doesn’t matter,” </em>Alune replied, <em>“If the King has kidnapped a Dawnbringer then we must save him!”</em></p><p>Aphelios wasn’t sure about this. He was sure if the angel wanted to, he could easily overpower six mortal guards. The Chaos in the air could’ve weakened him slightly, but he was clearly still standing tall and proud. They didn’t even know if he was a prisoner or not.</p><p><em>“He’s surrounded by guards,” </em>Alune told him, <em>“Of course he’s a prisoner! Think! If we save him, we’ll have an angel on our side!”</em></p><p>But if it turned out he was a prisoner, and they could free him, then the King of Night would undoubtedly be mad with them.  They were here to ally with a powerful King who had a fortress and an army, not one lone angel. They could ruin everything they had set out to achieve by going for a smaller target. They weren’t supposed to get distracted from their goal of unity!</p><p><em>“And let him suffer here?” </em>Alune interrupted his line of thought, <em>“Can you let an innocent man get tortured by the forces of Chaos?”</em></p><p>No, but they didn’t even know if the man was a prisoner! They didn’t even know if he was suffering. The man wasn’t in a dungeon, he wasn’t even in chains, and he looked in perfect health - he could just be living here! She was leaping to so many conclusions! Just because there was a Dawnbringer in a Nightbringer’s castle didn’t mean he was being tortured.</p><p><em>“And how can we know he isn’t?”</em> she retorted, her voice full of frustration, “<em>Why else would a powerful fiend have an angel in his halls?”</em></p><p>Diplomacy? Negotiations? Maybe the Dawnbringer had the same idea that they did and was trying to work with the King of Night?</p><p>
  <em> “Then why is he being guarded?” Alune replied, “Just go and see. We aren’t going to know anything for sure unless we follow him and find out!”</em>
</p><p>That was true. He was almost certain that she was barking up the wrong tree, but the only way he could prove her wrong was to go and look. So, he did as he was told and made a beeline for the nearest staircase. Once again, his progress was completely unimpeded by the mortals in the entrance hall. He went straight up the stairs and hastened towards the door the angel and his guards had left through. He could just about hear the sounds of armoured footfalls in the distance and followed the noise down several long dark corridors. The further he got into the castle, the more nervous he became about snooping around these back routes. They were supposed to be coming here to negotiate honestly and openly with the King of Night. Yet here he was, sneaking around his house like a thief. He knew very little about court etiquette but he expected this was a massive social error. With all the silence and grace of a hunter, he pursued the armoured footfalls through arches, up stairs and even though occupied rooms. Yet with every step he couldn’t help but feel they were pursuing the wrong quarry. They were here for the King of Night! Not whoever this angel was!</p><p><em>“Just find him,” </em>Alune told him, doing little to assure away his doubts, <em>“Wouldn’t you rather negotiate with an angel?”</em></p><p>No? The angel didn’t have an army. The angel wasn’t going to help them bring about an era of change. She would undoubtedly prefer to talk to one of her own kind, but this wasn’t what they were here for. However, since she was the only one actually capable of doing any talking, he didn’t have much choice in who they spoke to first. He could refuse to drink his poison but… he didn’t want to get into an argument in the middle of a strange castle. He hated disagreeing with his other half. He understood that she was the brains and he was the brawn of their union but… This wasn’t right. In this case, she wasn’t right.</p><p>He stopped as the footfalls halted.  There was the tell-tale creak of hinges followed by the sound of the guards coming back the way they’d come. Quickly darting into the shadows of an alcove, Aphelios saw all six guards heading back in the opposite direction. Right. The Dawnbringer had to be ahead, and by the sounds of it, behind a heavy door without his guards.</p><p>They carried on down the corridor, suddenly dazzled by a circular hallway lit by ornate iron torch-holders. At the far side of the hall was a large wooden door with cast-iron detailing, trimmed in gold. There was a small iron plaque on the door that said “<strong>Do Not Disturb.”</strong></p><p>They were going to disturb, weren’t they?</p><p><em>“Go on,” </em>Alune insisted, “<em>Actually no, drink your potion before we go in, so he can see me and that we’re not hostile.”</em></p><p>They needed that to talk to the King of Night! They only had one vial of the concentrated poison; they couldn’t waste it on a passing whim!</p><p><em>“It’ll last well over a day Brother,” </em>she told him, <em>“We can use the lingering effects to talk to the King if we encounter him later.”</em></p><p>Not if they ended up kidnapping this angel back and going on the run with him. He let out a silent sigh and took the vial off his belt. She was the one who made their plans and if she insisted… He uncorked the vial with one of his fangs, removed the cork, and then downed the vial in one.</p><p>The agony was near instantaneous. He’d become so used to the regular dose that it barely made him splutter. This however… This was like consuming fire. It burnt its way down his throat, leaving a trail of raw bloody flesh in its wake, before travelling down his gullet like burning coals. He clutched his chest, bent double as he had to force the liquid down. He needed it to enter his system before he started throwing up blood. Gore dribbled from his lips before splattering on the stone floor as he struggled to breath between every convulsion of his torso. He could feel when the poison hit his stomach. His eyes watered as he felt the delicate tissue of his insides sizzle. He began to retch, clapping a hand over his mouth so none of the Noctum could escape.  He stood there in the shadows, bent over, one arm around his stomach whilst the he bit into the other with bloody teeth. By the time he had any sense of coherence back, he’d produced two deep puncture marks into the skin of his forearm – two more holes that would join the mess of scars there.</p><p>“<em>Oh Brother</em>,” Alune sighed, but there was little she could to ease this torment. This was the only way. This had always been the only way. The regular dose of Noctum deprived him of his voice. However, they needed a voice between them to negotiate. So, he just had to deepen his connection to Alune, widen the channel between them, so she could talk for the pair of them. That meant more poison, more concentrated agony, for the greater good… He urged her to get the pain over and done with. Wordlessly, he felt her open the pathway between their half-souls. The agony only intensified as she forced their connection to its limits. It felt like his veins were trying to escape from his skin as the poison coursed through his system, lighting up every nerve to its unique brand of pain. He raised one trembling arm before him, and then the other. Entwining his fingers, he let a little more blood drip onto the floor as he opened his mouth and closed his eyes…</p><p>“<em>Aphelios. Do you see me?”</em></p><p>He opened his eyes and there she was. She floated before him, a spiritual figure present from the waist upwards. Her white hair and long sleeves drifted in the room around them as if underwater. The pale blue halo cresting her head was only point of colour on her person, the rest a ghostly silver-white, like a vision from beyond the grave. Aphelios longed to touch her, hold her hand, to feel a tangible connection between them. However, she was just an image, a projection, there was nothing for him to hold nor anything to hold him.</p><p>“<em>Come</em>,” she said, floating gracefully towards the door. She couldn’t interact with the solid wood so he was forced to get up and walk away from the bloody puddle he’d left on the ground. He reached up and knocked on the door, much to her bemusement. He looked at her in confusion. She had taught him it was polite to knock before you entered a person’s dwelling.</p><p><em>“You don’t need to knock on someone’s cell,” </em>she told him, her voice now outside of his mind, <em>“Just enter, we’re here to- “</em></p><p>“Come in.”</p><p>They both jumped as the door creaked open of its own accord. They entered at once into a warmly-lit room lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves. The one wall devoid of books was occupied by an enormous hearth with marble mantlepiece. It was a cosy space, mostly taken up by the shelves and an enormous desk overflowing with books and papers. At this desk sat the Dawnbringer from earlier in a large winged armchair. He had a book in his lap and certainly didn’t seem to be either chained, tortured or kept prisoner.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>,” said Alune.</p><p>The door swung closed behind them as the Dawnbringer put down his book and turned to face them in his seat.</p><p>“Well,” he stated, “This is even more interesting than I anticipated.”</p><p>Why did Aphelios feel that they had been led into a trap? His instincts said flee but with their connection he couldn’t get too far from Alune, even if he wanted to.</p><p><em>“Greetings,”</em> Alune said, with a bow, “<em>I am Dawn-Seer Alune of the Temple of First Light. This is my brother, and other soul-half, the Nightbringer, Aphelios.”</em></p><p>The angel regarded them for a moment.</p><p>“I am Grand General Jericho Swain,” he stated. His voice was calm and measured, like one who had exact control of his situation and surroundings. There was something about him that truly set Aphelios on edge.</p><p>“What are you doing here Dawn-Seer Alune and Nightbringer Aphelios?” Swain continued, “Why have you followed me up to my study?”</p><p><em>“We came to seek an audience with the King of Night,”</em> Alune explained, “<em>However, upon seeing you, I couldn’t help but fear that the King had taken you captive within his walls.”</em></p><p>The General let out a small huff of amusement.</p><p>“Is that so,” he said, “Well as you can see, I am not a captive. So why do you linger?”</p><p>Alune, it seemed, was not to be deterred in her assumptions.</p><p><em>“Then why do you, a Dawnbringer, reside in a fortress ruled by Chaos?”</em> she asked, “<em>Is not some force keeping you here?”</em></p><p>General Swain considered her for a moment. He crossed his arms – his spectral hand seemingly as solid as the one made of living flesh.</p><p>“You are the intruders here,” he reminded them, “So it seems only fair that you answer my questions before I answer yours. You live only because you have piqued my curiosity.”</p><p>Absolutely a trap then. He had seen Aphelios and decided to wait and see what they’d choose to do next. He did not like this. If only they’d gone and found the King like they were supposed to!</p><p>“<em>Of course,”</em> Alune agreed, despite her brother’s increasing trepidation, “<em>Please, ask.”</em></p><p>He could feel, through their heightened connection, that she trusted him. Because he was a Dawnbringer. Because he was an old and powerful Dawnbringer, she trusted him implicitly like she’d been raised to do. He hated it. He didn’t trust this situation one bit.</p><p>“Why are you a projected image?” Swain immediately asked, “And why is your brother bleeding from multiple orifices?”</p><p>On instinct, Aphelios wiped his mouth and nose with his wrist. They were now all covered in blood.</p><p><em>“That is the only means by which I can communicate with the world outside of the temple</em>,” Alune replied, “<em>My brother and I hold a unique bond, as we are two halves of the same primordial soul. However, I was sealed away in the Temple of First Light for my own safety. Aphelios must therefore consume the poisonous flower known as Noctum. With its influence in his veins, I can maintain a connection between us. I am his voice. He is my view into the world.”</em></p><p>“I see,” Swain commented, “And can your brother speak at all?”</p><p>Aphelios shook his head.</p><p><em>“He sacrificed his voice so we might be whole,”</em> Alune replied, <em>“A small sacrifice for the unity between Chaos and Order.”</em></p><p>Wait. No. What?</p><p>Aphelios found himself frowning through the lingering pain.</p><p>“Your brother seems to disagree with you,” Swain commented, his tone lightening as he glanced between them.  He was right. Aphelios did disagree with her. She knew the extent of what he’d given up. How much the constant use of Noctum had affected his body. Why was she downplaying it like that? Was it because she was now in front of another angel?</p><p><em>“He may just be in some pain from the effects of the poison,”</em> Alune continued, “<em>Please don’t mind him. I have come to speak for both of us.”</em></p><p>Swain however didn’t seem to pay her excuses any mind. He reached over to his desk and pulled out a large book bound with leather cord. To Aphelios’ slight surprise he leaned over to hand said book to him. Aphelios took it, trying not to get blood on the fine embossed cover, before the General then passed him a stick of charcoal.  Opening the book, Aphelios realised that the pages within were entirely blank. The General had just given him means to write with… Did that mean he was allowed to join in this conversation? Was this an invitation? Suddenly he couldn’t help but feel respect for the angel.</p><p>“This next question is for Aphelios and Aphelios alone,” Swain instructed, “What did you give up to create this connection with your sister?”</p><p>It was clear that Alune wanted to answer. Yet she wasn’t going to disobey a clearly high-ranking Dawnbringer. Aphelios took the charcoal in hand. Alune had taught him his letters and how to read and write a lot of things, but he couldn’t call himself a perfect scribe. He ended up writing in large capitals in the hopes that the General would understand.</p><p>
  <strong>VOICE</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>SENSE OF TASTE</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>LOTS OF FEELING IN BODY</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I BLEED INSIDE</strong>
</p><p>“All from the poison you consume, I take it,” Swain replied.</p><p>Aphelios considered writing yes but merely nodded.  </p><p>“And your sacrifice?” Swain asked of Alune, clearly giving her permission to speak once more. She floated in silence for a moment, seemingly confused by his question.</p><p>“I see,” Swain noted, “I understand it cannot be easy being confined to a magical temple but that was not part of your bond. It appears your other half is getting a far more taxing existence out of this union. I assume that is the seer who makes the commands and the fiend who obeys them?”</p><p>Aphelios nodded again. When he put it like that, it did sound like he was getting a very harsh treatment in this so-called equal union. It was hard to believe that an angel would stand up for a fiend like him, but he was starting to think there was more to this Grand General than he’d initially believed.</p><p><em>“It isn’t like that,”</em> Alune objected, “<em>We are two halves of a single whole. We complement each other as one being with differing skill sets. We are equals.”</em></p><p>“Of course,” Swain commented, though he didn’t sound like he believed her, “For my next question – why are you seeking an audience with the King of Night?”</p><p>This seemed to set Alune back on her desired path.</p><p>
  <em>“In our travels, Aphelios and I have seen the damage done by the constant warring between the forces of Order and Chaos. Whole villages of mortals caught in the midst of battles; thousands of lives lost in a war that seems to have no end. As half-beings of Order and Chaos combined, we know that Order and Chaos can co-exist. And they must if we are to ever break this cycle of eternal war. Yet we are but one soul, we cannot bring unity by ourselves. We need allies who can help us end the fighting before any more innocents must die. That is why we seek the King of Night. He has survived so many generations by staying away from the war. He must want to end it as much as we.”</em>
</p><p>Something she said must have amused the General immensely, for no sooner had she stopped talking, then the man began to laugh. It was a cold deep sound like an echo reaching far into the back of a cave. Despite his evident mirth, there was no warmth in his wry smile. It was the weary amusement of one who simply didn’t believe in what he was hearing, but liked to hear it regardless.</p><p>“You are so young,” General Swain commented, “Little primordial beings who have not tasted the lines of battle. Am I correct?”</p><p>They both nodded this time.</p><p>“Do you believe,” Swain continued, “That if Chaos and Order, Light and Darkness, were to somehow co-exist in peace… that this war would end?”</p><p><em>“Yes,”</em> Alune replied earnestly, “<em>Of course!”</em></p><p>“You are naïve,” Swain stated, causing her to visibly flinch before him. Aphelios stared at him, wondering what he knew that they didn’t. Wasn’t the whole point of the war that Chaos and Order wanted to wipe each other out?</p><p>“Yes, once this was a battle between Light and Darkness, Order and Chaos,” the General agreed, “But no more. I speak as one who has tasted ash and blood upon the air. I have stood at the frontlines and watched my loyal soldiers – mortal and angelic alike, get slaughtered like cattle. Hundreds have paid with their lives for mere acres, half-acres, of land.  I lost twenty Dawnbringers scrapping over a mere hill.”</p><p>He spat those last few words in disgust.</p><p>“The God-Kings shroud their selfish ambitions in the language of Chaos and Order, but they are no better than tyrants, trying to build empires on the backs of corpses. The primordial forces may obey them but they have bent the Light and Darkness into means to fill their coffers and extend their reaches. Our lives matter not to them. Chaos and Order matters not to them. Each side cannot coexist with the other simply because their leaders will never want the same things, they will never want unity.”</p><p>Alune looked deflated.</p><p><em>“But how do we save the mortals?”</em> she asked, “<em>Do they truly deserve to suffer an endless massacre? How can the Dawnbringers allow so many to die?”</em></p><p>With a creak of his chair, General Swain got to his feet.  He towered over them both, making Aphelios step away, intimidated. It was Alune however that Swain addressed his next words.</p><p>“Order does not care for mortals and neither does Chaos, their only consideration is for being the dominating force upon this world. To stop this suffering, we cannot rely on Dawnbringers or Nightbringers to create change. In a twisted sense, your ideas of unity are correct. However, we do not unite each side. No, we create a new side entirely with the enlightened few.  When Chaos and Order inevitably wipe each other out again, we will remain to build something better on their ashes. A better stronger nation, fashioned from the best of Order and Chaos. That is what the King and I are going to achieve.”</p><p>He raised his spectral hand and suddenly the empty space above the mantlepiece flickered and changed. What had once been a bare stretch of stone wall was now an intricately detailed map, crafted from threads of shimmering blue magic. Aphelios could only assume this was a map of the whole world. He’d never seen a map with so many places on it before. Alune however seemed to recognise it, but she didn’t want to believe what she had just been told.</p><p><em>“This…this doesn’t make sense!”</em> she proclaimed, “<em>You can’t just abandon Order and work with an ancient being of Chaos! You’re a Dawnbringer as much as I. We are Order incarnate! Good made tangible! We were created to make everything better!”</em></p><p>Swain clicked his fingers and tiny purple dots appeared all over the map on the wall.</p><p>“You truly believe that?” he asked Alune, “That Order is innately Good and Chaos is innately Evil?”</p><p>Aphelios turned to look at his sister. He would rather like to know the answer to that himself, after all the comments she’d made today.</p><p><em>“Of course!</em>” Alune exclaimed.  Aphelios stared at her.</p><p>“So, your other half?” Swain asked, “Your brother is a Nightbringer, is he innately Evil?”</p><p>“<em>No!”</em> protested Alune, “<em>No, he isn’t evil! But he’s only half Chaos, I am his other half and I belong to the Light. We can’t be evil!”</em></p><p>All his suspicions confirmed, Aphelios couldn’t help but give into the anger rising in his chest. He had realised she was biased. He had reckoned that she’d been influenced by her Dawnbringer upbringing and teachers. But how could she believe that all beings of Chaos were evil and beings of Order were good? They’d seen, with their own eyes, the damage Dawnbringers could do! How could she think that the bits of Chaos associated with her were acceptable whilst the rest were abhorrent? He turned a page in the book and wrote</p><p>
  <strong>I AM CHAOS. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>HOW WILL THERE BE UNITY?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>IF YOU HATE US?</strong>
</p><p>“Your brother asks a very valid question,” Swain commented. Aphelios was liking this Dawnbringer more by the second. He was saying exactly what he’d been trying to explain for months now. Good and Evil had nothing to do with Chaos and Order. Every race of being contained the ability to be good and evil in equal measure. Yet Alune had always insisted that Order and Light were goodness and everything else was bad.</p><p>“<em>No, Phel, that’s not it!”</em> Alune said, “<em>You’re my brother, of course I don’t think you’re evil. If more beings of Chaos were like you then we’d already have unity!”</em></p><p>The General made to reply but he stopped himself when he realised Aphelios was writing. That only earned him more respect from the fiend.</p><p>
  <strong>YOU DO NOT GET TO CHOOSE THE BITS OF CHAOS YOU LIKE.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>THAT IS NOT TRUE UNITY</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>IT IS ORDER CONTROLLING CHAOS INTO A ‘GOOD’ FORM IT LIKES. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“He is completely correct,” The General complimented, dipping his head towards Aphelios, “You should listen to your brother more, Dawn-Seer. He seems to have a clearer head than you even through the immense pain he must feel from ritualistic poisoning.”</p><p>“<em>I-I…”</em> Alune spluttered, “<em>What…what are those dots? What are you and the King planning?”</em></p><p>She appeared to be changing the topic.</p><p>“Each dot is an agent we have in a major mortal settlement,” Swain stated, “So when Order and Chaos inevitably destroy each other, a new power will rise, ready-made to lead a new nation into golden age without constant warring. If you still wish to seek some sort of unity, this is the closest you will ever get. I am a Dawnbringer, intending to rule alongside a Nightbringer after all. Is that not the co-existence you desire?”</p><p>Alune didn’t have a response. He could feel her turmoil through their connection. Her disbelief as she tried to re-process everything she had once assumed was fact. Her mind was putting up barriers, refusing to let her break down her most basic principles. It wanted her to fight, to insist that her teachers were correct, but doubt had wormed its way inside and now she didn’t know what to do. As she withdrew further and further into her thoughts, Aphelios felt their connection weakening. She was pulling herself back so far into her own head that she was no longer even looking at his thoughts. He felt it as their link was stretched until the tiniest glimmer remained and then…then she was gone.</p><p>The spiritual form of his sister flickered once and then vanished. He could still feel her there, but she was a churning sensation of confusion and anger at the back of his mind. She didn’t want to be contacted right now and likely wouldn’t listen if he tried.</p><p>He looked up at Swain, still clutching the book.</p><p>“Your sister has retreated to her temple?” the general asked.</p><p>Aphelios nodded.</p><p>“A shame,” Swain sighed, taking his seat once more, “That such promise must be clouded by the selfish teachings of lesser angels. I hope she comes round for your sake. You have clearly suffered much for your other half, none of it deserved. What is your relationship to other Nightbringers?”</p><p>
  <strong>I HAVE NEVER MET ANY OF MY KIND</strong>
</p><p>Aphelios wrote before showing him the page.</p><p>“I see,” Swain said, “Well that is unfortunate, but something we can easily amend. The King already knows of your presence, but I anticipate that he’ll be excited to meet you. We are secluded here that any new Nightbringer guests fill him with such joy. He will likely want to spoil you.”</p><p>
  <strong>IS HE A NICE PERSON?</strong>
</p><p>Swain chuckled.</p><p>“No, but he is very generous with his favourites. I am sure he will invite you to tonight’s feast.”</p><p>That explained all the food that was coming in. Aphelios sat and listened to details about the King’s court until a pair of guards came to the door. Swain allowed them entry and they proclaimed that the guest suite had been prepared for the Nightbringer. They then stated that the King requested their new arrival to make use of his private baths before the feast later – a selection of celebration-appropriate attire would be provided for him afterwards. Slightly taken aback by all this attention, Aphelios allowed himself to be led towards this ‘guest suite’.  Once there he discovered a large room full of rich furnishings, from a circular bed with its own set of curtains, to a little sitting room area compete with armchairs, a log fire and even a few shelves of books for him to read. They all looked a bit more complicated than he could manage, but he certainly appreciated the warmth and comfort of the room. He sat on one of the armchairs, able to curl up entirely between its armrests as he looked around. A large stained-glass window on the outer wall showed that he was in one of the castle’s many spires. The picture in the glass depicted a night’s sky, complete with purple-grey clouds, glittering stars and a silvery full moon. He admired it for some time, wondering how they shaped all the tiny pieces of glass and turned them different colours.  Afterwards, he decided to inspect the bed and found it by the far the softest thing he’d ever laid his head on. He very rarely got to sleep on a mattress – only when they found an abandoned building for him to wait out the rain. Those mattresses were usually full of straw, occasionally mice too, but this one… He prodded it carefully, making sure not to puncture it with one of his claws. This one was so soft it must be full of sheep’s wool, or something as equally soft and springy.</p><p>All the furnishings were very soft. Aphelios admittedly had a weakness for smooth soft things after living outdoors for most of his life. Especially when they were soft enough to be felt through his muted senses. He still enjoyed the feeling of springy moss and river-washed pebbles, but they didn’t quite compare to these bedsheets which managed to be smooth, soft and shiny all at the same time. He was sure Alune could tell him what they were made of if she was paying attention. However, whenever he tried to contact her, all he got was that roiling sensation of confusion. She clearly wanted to be left alone, so leave her alone he did. However, he would have appreciated some guidance on what to do in this bizarre situation. The King had clearly let him borrow a whole room full of nice things, but he wasn’t sure what to do except perhaps take a little nap. He climbed back on top of the bed, drawing the smooth-soft-shiny fabric around him. After all the pain earlier, some of which was still making his stomach churn, he felt very tired. He was sure the King would understand if he just slept a little bit.</p><p>He awoke later to find three mortals staring at him. The sky was remarkably darker through the stained glass, so he must have slept through much of the afternoon. The mortals stood next to his bedside, one having gently touched his shoulder to wake him up. He blinked at them as all three gave a low bow.</p><p>“His Majesty has ordered us to ready his private baths for you,” one of the mortals said, “They have been prepared. Please follow us.”</p><p>Well, at least he had something to do now? He wondered why the King had multiple baths as he followed the mortals out of the guest suite and down a spiral staircase. Usually bathing only required one body of water, right? </p><p>It turned out, when you were a King, bathing was very complicated indeed. There were multiple pools of water, each with different temperatures and different scents. The mortals were very insistent he did each in a specific order and kept applying different oils to him between washes. He understood it when they treated and bound his punctured arm, sitting still so they could stem the bleeding and make sure the wound didn’t get infected.  The following treatment however confused him immensely. He could hardly feel the mortal’s hands on him, so kept twitching in alarm every time he realised that there was a person behind him. Whenever he tried to object; the mortals would say something along the lines of “The King expects it” or “You cannot come to the feast in such a state.” The only part he could really feel was when they directed him onto a table and started knead his back like bread dough. He immediately thought to escape this, but then he felt something suddenly relax in his back and a feeling of immense relief passed down his spine.  When it happened a second time, he realised that was the point of this strange ritual and let them continue. By the end of this weird process of washing, oiling and making his muscles feel like goo, Aphelios felt like a lighter person. His back and shoulders seemed limber, his arms and legs more flexible. Though he now smelled strangely like flowers, his skin felt smoother and he definitely had less hair on his body than he did previously. Wondering how that had happened, he was presented with a soft black towel and ushered into an adjacent room. There he found a large wooden table where a set of clothes had been laid out for him.  The purples of the fabric matched his hair and skin tone, with the blues and golds adding a very fancy, if not regal, air to the clothing. Reminding him of his own horns, the metallic additions seemed almost familiar and the red accessories reminded him of how his eyes glinted in the reflection of the baths.   This was certainly the fanciest thing he had ever worn – mostly having stolen his previously clothing from mortal villages or off the back of dead men. The mortals helped him wrap the purple fabric around his body, leaving part of his chest exposed as they strapped on what he could only describe as leather armour. He stood very still, not entirely sure what do in the wake of such generosity. The King had presented him with such a fine room and now he wanted him to wear such finery? He’d never even met the man! The King of Night must truly be excited to have another Nightbringer in his halls.</p><p>Dressed, perfumed and decorated, the mortals added smoky powder to his eyes and some colour to his lips before escorting him out of the baths. Aphelios reached for his connection with Alune as they led him down yet another set of winding corridors, however she was still wasn’t in the mood to talk.  He tried to let her know that he was there to listen any time, but she didn’t even deign to reply. Saddened by this, he nevertheless followed the mortals back through the castle and towards the ever-increasing sound of music in the distance. He was safe in the knowledge that, even if she wasn’t paying attention right now, he could still fulfil their plan. Maybe their quest for unity wasn’t quite as expected, however he could at least ask the King of Night for his take on the situation. If they provided him something to write on again that is. If Grand General Swain as also attending this feast, then he’d know that Aphelios would need some assistance communicating.</p><p>The mortals bowed and left him in front of a set of double doors entirely decorated in precious stones and metals. The stone entry way had been transformed into a garden scene with golden boughs arching over threshold, laden with jewel-studded fruit. The doors themselves were embellished with gem-stone flowers, golden trees and even a silver-filigree river with minute jewelled fish. Aphelios wasn’t sure he was supposed to touch it, however what else were you supposed to do with a door? He knocked.</p><p>“Enter!” called an imperious voice from the other side.</p><p>Once again, the door swung open of its own accord. Aphelios stepped inside, his new boots barely making a noise against the stone floor. No sooner had he stepped inside, than the sheer ambient Chaos of the room beset him like the deluge from a waterfall. Yet instead of drowning him, he suddenly felt every nerve in his body leap to attention. His ears twitched, his mouth ran dry and he was suddenly alert to even the slightest movement in the room around him.  The air itself tasted like heat and spice as he looked around the opulent lounge. It was incredibly warm despite there being no fire in the grate. His instinct purred at him that this was right, this was what they needed even after so many warm baths. He felt his fangs length slightly in his mouth, his claws extend, his vision now hyper-aware of every colour and texture of his surroundings. He hadn’t been this…fiendish in so long. Certainly not since he’d met Alune. Yet his heart somehow sung just from being in this room. Just from being enveloped in such raw unbridled Chaos.</p><p>“Look at you,” purred a voice from a nearby armchair. Aphelios turned and suddenly he felt his heart race and his breathing stutter.</p><p>A Nightbringer.</p><p>An actual real-life Nightbringer.</p><p>The first Nightbringer he’d ever seen – besides his own reflection.  For the first time in his life, Aphelios was looking at someone he could call kin.  The King of Night, (for who else could it be,) had golden horns just like his.  He had the same purple hue to his skin and his hair, and facial markings so similar to his own! He felt almost giddy with the realisation, the proof, that he wasn’t alone in this big wide world. There were other Nightbringers! They weren’t just horrible stories to frighten mortal children. He’d known, understood, that his kind were out there somewhere. However, to actually meet one face to face, claws, fangs, horns all undeniably real… He wasn’t alone.  Oh, he wasn’t the lone roaming monster that he’d believed he was.</p><p>“Well aren’t you a feast for the eyes,” commented the King, getting up off his seat and walking over to Aphelios, who was too overwhelmed to do much of anything.  The King was tall and lean like the pale edge of a blade. His extravagant red and gold coat swept along behind him in a glowing trail of Chaotic magic that sizzled and hissed against the furniture, but left it unscathed. He stopped in front of Aphelios, reaching forward with two elegantly painted claws to grasp the smaller fiend’s chin – lifting his face for a better look.</p><p>“Such a lovely face to bless my halls. And on a day, such as this! It truly must be destiny that we met.”</p><p>Aphelios didn’t know what he was talking about but he was too enraptured to care.  He stared up into that darkly glowing gaze, wishing he could say something… anything… He hoped it was destiny that had brought them to this moment. Didn’t he deserve a little of destiny’s favour after being deprived of his kin for so long?</p><p>“But where are my manners?” the King exclaimed, letting go of Aphelios and turning with a dramatic swish of his coat</p><p>“Welcome, Aphelios,” he continued, “Allow me to welcome you to the place where you belong – a veritable haven for all things Chaotic and beautiful. I am Vladimir, the King of Night, ruler of this paradise. Allow me to show you how welcoming Darkness can be. How much you have missed wandering so far away from a place so ready to be your home.”</p><p>The King held out one pale hand and Aphelios took it. His hand was so small in Vladimir’s that he couldn’t help but wonder how the older fiend got so big. Did fiends continue to grow throughout the centuries? Or had living in a place where Chaos thrived given Vladimir all the strength necessary to adopt a stronger, more elegant, form than one who’d never known Chaos’ true embrace? However he had grown, the grip about Aphelios’ hand was strong, strong enough that even he could feel the brush of their skin. He allowed himself to be led towards another set of double doors, as gilt as the last.</p><p>“Allow me the pleasure of your company at our grand feast,” Vladimir continued, “It would be the utmost honour to dine with a fellow Nightbringer after such a long absence. And one as fine and delectable as you? Why, it would be a dream come true.”</p><p>Aphelios felt a little heat rise to his face. The King kept complimenting his appearance and he didn’t know why. Not even Alune had given his outward look any praise. He was used to being called monster or a horror, but not beautiful. Did it take a fellow fiend to appreciate another? He didn’t understand, but the way the King was treating him, so welcoming, so positively… It made a wonderful change. Ever since he’d set foot in this castle things had gone surprisingly well. His questioning of Alune had been vindicated. He had met one of his own kind. And that fellow Nightbringer thought he was someone worth knowing? That he was an honour to have in his home? This was beyond the wildest reaches of his imagination!</p><p>“Come my darling,” the King announced, “Our feast awaits.”</p><p>With a flick of the King’s hand, the next doors swung open to tumultuous applause. Aphelios blinked in surprise as he was led onto a tall balcony overlooking a vast banquet hall. The floor below was packed with long tables, each rammed with hundreds of mortals, clapping and cheering for their King. Atop the raised area was another long table, this one much finer than those below for the masses. This table only had six seats – more like thrones than simple chairs. One was already occupied by General Swain, who didn’t look remotely surprised to see Vladimir and Aphelios arrive hand-in-hand. At the other end of the table was a mortal woman in a red silk dress. She gave a bow to the King before going back to surveying the applauding masses. Vladimir only let go of his hand when they reached the centre of the table. The two largest thrones clearly belonged to the King and Grand-General. Vladimir climbed over the gilt arm-rest of his seat before lounging back into the plush red lining of the chair. Swain meanwhile sat in a very solid looking construction of wood and steel – no less ornate but far less ostentatious that a seat made of gold. Aphelios was directed to sit by Vladimir’s left-hand side in a throne made entirely of black wood. The cushions were just as squishy as the mattress in his guest room, and made of a shimmering purple velvet. He sat politely with his hands in his lap, just like Alune had taught him.</p><p>“Welcome!” the King announced to the hall at large, the crowd below instantly hushing to hear him speak. His voice echoed supernaturally through the hall, giving his subjects no choice but to listen.</p><p>“Welcome, one and all, to the millennial anniversary of our beloved home. One thousand years ago, we moved into this magnificent fortress. A haven of my own design, a cure from the constant warring that infects this world. Let us eat, drink and chase the night away with worldly pleasures. This moment is ours, and what a fine moment it is.”</p><p>There was another round of applause, followed by the opening of many doors throughout the banquet hall. A whole army of mortals, each bearing arms of food and drink, appeared and began to lay their dishes upon the tables. It was much the same up on the balcony. A team of mortals in black and red uniforms filled the table before them with plates, platters and bowls, all heaped with food. A mortal with a large jug walked by, filling goblets until she reached the King, who held up his own cup to be directly served. Aphelios watched curiously as she approached him, wondering what the jug held, but no sooner had she bent to pour, the Dawnbringer spoke.</p><p>“As much as I would like our guests to join the revelry,” Swain commented, “Do you not think wine would be too taxing on his stomach?”</p><p>Aphelios blinked at him. Wine was the coloured water that made him sleepy when he tried it, and then very ill the following day. It likely wasn’t a great idea when he had just consumed so much poison. It was kind of the angel to think of him like this.</p><p>“Oh of course,” agreed the King, “My mistake, sorry darling.”</p><p>He addressed the last two words to Aphelios before snapping his fingers.</p><p>“Get some cordial for our beautiful guest,” the King ordered, “And be quick about it.”</p><p>The mortal was indeed quick about it. She returned only a few minutes later with a smaller glass jug through of a light red liquid. She poured Aphelios a cup full before leaving it on the table beside a large roast bird.</p><p>“A toast!” Vladimir exclaimed, raising his goblet. Everyone at the table copied him, Aphelios hastening to do the same.</p><p>“To a thousand more years of prosperity!”</p><p>Aphelios raised the goblet to his lips, mimicking those around him. He was about to part his lips when suddenly a voice in his head cried</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t drink that!”</em>
</p><p>Alune was back.  Her presence in his conscience was a comfort even after a little time apart. But the question remained – why shouldn’t he drink?</p><p><em>“This whole place reeks of Chaotic magic,”</em> Alune explained<em>, “The food, the drink, even the furniture. Don’t trust anything or anyone in here, certainly not the King or his food.”</em></p><p>As the King continued to make toasts, Aphelios’ indecision seemed to have gone mostly unnoticed. Yet he still didn’t understand why he shouldn’t eat and drink at this feast. Of course, there was Chaotic magic about, the King was radiating with it. The mortals down below were happily tucking in, and General Swain was drinking his wine. Nothing bad was happening to them. Why didn’t she trust the King? Hadn’t she seen he’d been nothing but generous?</p><p><em>“He’s an ancient King of Chaos Phel</em>,” she told him, “<em>Why do you think he’d give you so much for nothing in return? He wants something from you.”</em></p><p>He was excited to see another Nightbringer. There wasn’t a single other fiend in this hall. Hadn’t Swain explained that the King would spoil a member of his own kind. Did she believe the angel lied? Or was she just too entrenched in her Dawnbringer biases that she immediately assumed all Nightbringers that weren’t him, were evil? Because that was what this looked like! This looked like she was being unjustly biased again!</p><p><em>“No, Brother, please,”</em> said Alune, “<em>Please believe me. My every instinct is screaming at me not to trust this fiend. You’ve trusted me this far, my other half, why not now?”</em></p><p>Because the King had been so wonderful to him and she had branded his kind as evil. She had tried to explain away all the suffering he went through as nothing. She had highlighted how unequal their supposedly equal relationship had become! The General was right. It wasn’t fair that he should sacrifice so much and yet she still hated his kind. She had returned but she hadn’t even apologised to him yet.</p><p><em>“I-I,” </em>Alune stammered, <em>“I’m still working on that! I’m not giving any apologies until I…PHEL NO!”</em></p><p>Her voice rang in his head but it was too late. He had drunk the juice.</p><p>It tasted like…juice.</p><p>It was juice.</p><p>No magic. No poison. Nothing. Just simple fruit juice.  It didn’t taste like much after all the damage the Noctum had done to his tastebuds but, it was sweet, like fruit was. It had the right texture too. It was simply juice.</p><p><em>“You have to understand,”</em> Alune insisted, “<em>I’m worried for you Phel. We can’t know what will happen next in this place. What the King could be up too, he’s-“</em></p><p>For the first time in his life, Aphelios stopped listening to her.  She needed to go back and have some more serious thoughts about where her biases lay and whether she was truly committed to having a fiend as the other half of her soul. She had to think about everything the Dawnbringers had taught her. He meant everything, every lesson, every saying, every book and painting and song, and think about what they were trying to tell her. Where she had got her beliefs and assumptions from and how they needed to change if she truly wanted unity with him and the rest of the world. They couldn’t keep doing this. He refused to be the one who had to stay silent and compromise so she could give the orders. They were meant to be equals. She just had to think about what that meant.</p><p><em>“I know Phel,” </em>she replied to that little inner tirade, <em>“I know.”</em></p><p>And then she left his thoughts again. He could still feel her, but once again, she’d retreated into that place of turmoil.</p><p>He drank more juice as the King finished his toasts. The other occupants of the table picked up their cutlery and began to serve themselves portions of the dishes on the table. Aphelios wasn’t sure which of the many fiddly implements he should be using for what, so he took the biggest knife and fork before wondering what to do next. At the sight of his plate still empty, the King beckoned for another servant.</p><p>“Guide our confused guest through the delicacies on offer, and serve them to him,” Vladimir ordered, “This must all be very overwhelming for the poor thing.”</p><p>Aphelios dipped his head in thanks, wishing he could talk to the King. Was there anyway he could ask for a pen and paper? It seemed not right now, for the mortal who had brought him juice proceeded to describe each dish in simple terms that even he understood. What meat or vegetable it contained, what the accompanying sauce was, what was best served with it. Small portions of each were put on his plate and multiple side plates as he sipped at his juice, in awe of the sheer variety in front of him. Once the mortal was done, she refilled his glass of juice before backing away. Aphelios decided to start with what he understood best – meat. He chose a sharper looking knife to cut up what he had been told was venison, which was deer.  He had hunted deer before, eaten them both cooked and raw, so he knew where he was with venison. He was worried that all this explanation would be wasted on someone with so little sense of taste, but he fretted for naught. As soon as he put the first slice of venison into his mouth, he was taken back to the days when he had first discovered roast meat. The rich flavours of a kill cooked over a fire! It was just like back then, before the Noctum, the flavour filled him with such excitement that he ravenously went for more. He hadn’t experienced so much taste, so much flavour, in such a long time!</p><p>“Enjoying yourself?” commenting the King as Aphelios finished off his venison at great speed, “You must try the beef, it’s divine.”</p><p>He offered Aphelios a small chunk of beef on the end of his fork, raising the implement so it was perfectly at lip height. Realising what he was meant to do, Aphelios leaned forward and ate the meat straight off the King’s fork. Oh stars, he could taste it all! The tenderness of the meat, the hint of blood inside, it was like nothing he had experienced in years. He checked his own plate to see if he had beef. Lo and behold, he did. He took another large drink of juice before moving onto his own beef. Oh moon above, this was the best thing he had ever eaten!</p><p>As it turned out, it was the best thing he’d ever eaten so far. As the evening progressed, his palate was assaulted by glorious flavour after glorious flavour. He was so caught up in being able to taste everything and anything, he never stopped to consider why. He was too mesmerised by all the new things he could try. There were sauces made from fruits and vegetables he’d never heard of. There were meats from animals he’d never knew existed. He ate flowers that didn’t hurt him and mushrooms that tasted like meat themselves. There were whole fish from which you peeled back their glittering scales to reveal flaky meat beneath. Every so often, the King would offer him a morsel from his own plate, taking delight in the fact that he could feed Aphelios whatever he so chose from his own cutlery. Aphelios realised that he was making the King happy so didn’t refuse him anything. He wanted to repay his host’s generosity and if that meant eating things off his fork then so be it. Sometimes, when he ate from the King’s fork, Vladimir would stroke his face and call him beautiful. That only made the experience ever more pleasurable as Aphelios lost himself to all this wonder.</p><p>As the now-empty dishes were taken away, Aphelios thought the meal was over. However, he was thoroughly mistaken. Vladimir gave another speech to his drunken and enraptured subjects, all of whom were far less orderly than Aphelios had seen them prior.</p><p>“My loyal subjects,” Vladimir proclaimed over an even larger glass of wine, “Let us run wild with our pleasures tonight. For what is a celebration without a little excess? What is a party without a little scandal? What is a feast without indulging in our innermost desires?”</p><p>There was a cacophony of cheers as yet more dishes were brought out and placed onto the tables. Aphelios stared as beautiful ornate structures made of fruit, cake and cream were placed on every surface. In front of Vladimir was placed a white swan made entirely of some sort of hard but light sugary substance. It sat in a pond of blue and purple fruits, the outskirts of which were swirls of whipped cream. Vladimir smiled as he reached up and promptly broke the swan’s neck, snapping off the head and breaking it into many pieces. He then dipped a large piece in the whipped cream and offered it to Aphelios.</p><p>“Meringue, my sweet?”</p><p>He didn’t have a fork this time but he clearly meant for Aphelios to eat it out of his hand again. Aphelios obediently did so, smearing his face as he ate the sweet yet fluffy meringue. Both his face and the King’s hand ended up covered in cream. Even as he finished the meringue, the King didn’t move his hand. He raised an expectant eyebrow at Aphelios before glancing at his own hand. Oh, Aphelios realised, he had wasted so much of the cream! How could he do such a thing! He delicately licked the remains off the King’s palm and then around the edges of his claws. Vladimir made a purring noise deep in his chest as he watched Aphelios carefully lick up and down his fingers, careful to get every last bit of cream.</p><p>“Very good darling,” he praised, “You are such a delight. Allow me to return the favour.”</p><p>With his slightly sticky hand, he reached forward, taking Aphelios’ chin once more. Before Aphelios could so much as wonder what he was about to do, the King began licking the cream off his cheeks and chin, occasionally pressing his lips against particularly messy spots. Aphelios felt the heat rise to his cheeks as the King pressed one last kiss to Aphelios’ lips before drawing back.</p><p>“Mmm,” Vladimir mused, “I should really fire my chefs, because none of them could produce something as delicious as your face right now.”</p><p>Aphelios couldn’t help but blush a little darker, but tried to distract himself with more juice. His jug was now empty, one glass full remaining.  However, he couldn’t bring himself to mind as he tried all number of sugary wonders – from candied fruit that filled his mouth with sweetness, to rich chocolate sponge cake that left him craving more, to delicate cream confections that seemed to disappear as soon as they passed his lips. The King kept finding new creative ways to share his food with him. Using a silver fork, he speared a piece of cake before utterly coating it in cream and strawberry sauce. Too big to fit in his mouth at once, Aphelios watched the King’s happy expression as he licked off the outer cream and sauce, before nibbling on the cake within. It was all amazing, and the King’s delight only made it more so. He hadn’t known what to expect when he’d realised he was going to the feast, but this had perhaps become one of the best evenings of his life. He had amazing food and drink, he was warm and safe, and he got to share this all with the most fantastic member of his own kind! A fiend who thought he was as wonderful as he thought the King was!</p><p>The crowd below were getting very rowdy. There were noises drifting from below that Aphelios couldn’t quite place. A lot of grunting and moaning, a few screams, but they didn’t sound very fearful. Noticing his distraction, the King caught Aphelios’ chin again and said</p><p>“Why don’t we leave the masses to their delights darling? Change into something a bit more comfortable and come meet me in my chambers.”</p><p>Aphelios nodded and allowed himself to be taken away by the same three mortals from earlier. Back in the small room by the baths, they took away his current clothes and instead offered him a pair of soft trousers and a long purple robe. He put them on, loving how smooth and soft they were against his skin, before being escorted once more through the castle. The King’s chambers must be far from the rest of the fortress as they went up many spiralling staircases and even across a covered walkway before they reached a tower guarded by many armoured mortals. The soldiers parted to allow them in before firmly closing the door behind them. Up more stairs, these one carpeted, and they were finally in what looked like another lounge. It had a plush rug covering most of the floor, as well as several tables and couches, all surrounding a central table filled with bottles of drink.</p><p>“His Majesty requests you wait for him in the second room on the right,” said one of the mortals. Aphelios nodded, leaving them to open the door they’d gestured at.</p><p>The room beyond was part bedroom, part sitting-room, with a large roaring fire beneath an ornate marble mantle taking up a large portion of one wall. Surrounding this were four finely-embroidered armchairs and a small table, all atop another large rug. The floor in this room was entirely marble, perhaps necessitating all the rugs around every furnished area. On the opposite side of the room from the fire was an absolutely enormous bed with glossy red sheets. It was sat on a raised marble dais, surrounded by wooden pillars that supported thick red and purple drapes on each side. Aphelios stared at it for a moment, wondering why the King had such a magnificent bed, before he heard someone clear their throat behind him.</p><p>“Ah!”</p><p>He jumped in surprise as General Swain entered the room behind him. What shocked him even further however was the noise that had just left his mouth.</p><p>“I…I…” he gasped, clasping his throat in both hands and not feeling any of the usual pain that occurred when he tried to speak.</p><p>“I…can speak,” he managed, “I…spoke. I can…”</p><p>He looked up at the General, his mind awhirl with shock and confusion.</p><p>“Grand General Swain,” he said, “Grand General Swain, I can speak!”</p><p>“Indeed you can,” commented Swain, “What a pleasant surprise.”</p><p>No, this wasn’t a pleasant surprise. He didn’t understand it! He’d drunk that incredibly concentrated Noctum earlier. He should be coughing up blood not speaking! He should be silent for at least two days between the vial and the drink he’d taken earlier. Desperate for answers in how this could have happened, he sought out Alune. Yet, as he sought for that familiar connection, the ever-present path between their souls, the horrible reality set it.</p><p>She was gone.</p><p>There was no connection. No link between them. He couldn’t feel her influence at all, the link that was there regardless of whether she wanted to talk to him or not. Alune wasn’t there. She was gone. His sister… His constant companion… She wasn’t here.  For the first time in so many years, he was without the other half of his soul. Panic rose in his chest as he scrambled for a reason why such a thing could occur.</p><p>The Noctum!</p><p>Something must have happened to the Noctum in his body if he could speak and their connection had been severed. He fumbled for the flask on his belt before realising neither belt nor flask were there. He was dressed in clothes the King had provided for him. Where were his original clothes? He needed to go back to his guest room to find them! The idea of being cut off from Alune was far too terrible to contemplate and do nothing. He hadn’t gone without her in so long that spending a moment more without their connection… Aphelios let out a cry as the sheer sense of loneliness hit him like a wagon. His hands shook as he desperately sought that link within his own mind. Yet whenever he tried to reach out for his other half, there was nothing. It was as if they had never connected, like he’d never consumed a single petal. He couldn’t go back to being alone! He couldn’t return to such emptiness! He couldn’t be half a soul again. He couldn’t lose the only person he’d ever loved, the only person who had ever loved him! He was so far from the mountain. Who knew if he could make it back to where the Noctum bloomed? Yet he must. He must do something, he couldn’t lose Alune…</p><p>His breathing was ragged as more footfalls echoed around the bedchamber.</p><p>“My, my General. Have you made our lovely guest cry?”</p><p>“That wasn’t me,” Swain replied.</p><p>Aphelios looked up to see the King of Night approaching him. If anyone could help him find his flask of Noctum, surely it would have to be him?</p><p>“Your-your Majesty,” he stammered, trying to force back the urge to sob, “My other-half…she’s gone.”</p><p>Vladimir shot a curious look at him.</p><p>“His Dawnbringer sister,” Swain supplied, “They have a spiritual connection through the poison he consumes.”</p><p>“You’ve lost connection with your sister?” Vladimir said gently, “Oh you poor thing. Is there anything we can do to help? It pains me to see you weep.”</p><p>Oh thank Chaos!</p><p>“I-I had a flask on my belt,” Aphelios explained to the King, “Of Noctum, the poison. But I took it off to use the baths and…and I don’t know where it is.”</p><p>“Well that is easily amended darling,” Vladimir replied with a smile. He stepped forward and drew Aphelios into a warm embrace, one arm around him whilst the other hand gently stroked his hair. Aphelios found himself shuddering under the caresses, unconsciously leaning in for more.</p><p>“General, be a dear and send a message out,” Vladimir ordered the Dawnbringer, “I want Aphelios’ flask found as soon as possible. And do tell them not to try drinking the contents.”</p><p>“Of course,” said Swain.</p><p>Aphelios couldn’t see him beyond the large collar of the King’s coat, but he did see a large flash of blue light and the hear the faint chime of a bell.</p><p>“All better,” said Vladimir, “Whilst they search, let me help you keep your mind off all that fear inside. You’ll be reunited soon enough, but let me distract you from the pain for a little while.”</p><p>Aphelios welcomed a distraction whilst the King found his Noctum. He shivered as he felt long fingers trace the length of his horns. His breath caught in his throat as the King gently moved his hair from his eyes, all the better to see his expression as he ran his thumb from the golden tip of Aphelios’ horns straight to their base. Aphelios stared up at crimson eyes, so much like his own, but filled with pity and care. Noticing his gaze, Vladimir smiled. He moved one hand from Aphelios’ horns to cup his face, the other gently combing fingers through his hair.</p><p>Whimpering, Aphelios leant into the touch on instinct, feeling sharp nails against his scalp but unable to get enough of the sensation. Vladimir stroked his cheek, paying particular attention to the stripes of his markings.</p><p>“You poor thing,” the King purred, “I can’t imagine how lonely you must have been, out there in the cruel world, wandering all on your lonesome. No one there to take care of you when you were so lost and hurting. No one to hold you through those cold loveless nights when it seemed you were the only being in this whole world…”</p><p>He was right. Aphelios remembered what it was like to be alone. To live on the fringes of society like some feral stray. Before Alune, no one had ever spoken to him with kindness in their eyes. No one had held him when he felt like the world was trying to snuff him out. And even with her guidance, her company, no one had ever touched him like this. No one had put their hands on him willingly, let alone with such care and intimacy. A spirit could not embrace him, put her hands in his, or stroke his face with such tenderness. His eyes closed as Vladimir continued to scratch him behind the horns. A low rumbling purr escaping him as he lost himself to the feeling. He’d never imagined such a wonderful sensation could come from such a place. How was he supposed to know? Who did he have who could touch him there?</p><p>Especially now. Now due to some horrible coincidence, Aphelios was alone again. He was only half a soul again, craving the warmth and kindness only his other half could provide. But… this was a very nice distraction for the meanwhile. Being caressed like this, petted really, was the most gentleness he’d experienced in so long and… and… it filled the ache in his heart. The ache that longed for the touch of another living being. Until he could reunite with his other half, this, this made the wait bearable, enjoyable even. After an evening filled with joyful sensations, this was the best one of all.</p><p>“Do you like that, darling?” asked Vladimir, drawing his hand away from Aphelios’ hair only to have his head follow. Aphelios opened his eyes, only to meet that crimson gaze and nod. Vladimir smiled widely, raising Aphelios’ chin with two long fingers.</p><p>“Would you like some more?”</p><p>Aphelios blinked at him. More? What did he…?</p><p>Suddenly he felt warm lips against his own. The strong grip at his chin left little room for movement but he could not care. He mimicked the motions of the lips against his, brushing noses as Vladimir coaxed him into opening his mouth with insistent prods of his tongue. Aphelios let out a small moan as suddenly he tasted blood. It made his head swim and his body ache as Vladimir continued to lick at his fangs, having scraped his bottom lip against Aphelios’ sharp incisors. The hand about his chin moved to the back of his head as Vladimir drew him deeper into the kiss. Entwining their tongues, he encouraged Aphelios to taste the blood flowing freely from the slight puncture he’d accidentally made. Every drop of blood sent a burst of warmth through Aphelios’ body like he’d been doused in hot water. Each was a wave of sheer pleasure that made his muscles relax then tense again at its passing. Previously, when he’d been alone in the wilds, the taste of blood had driven him wild, inciting a bloodlust that drove him towards yet more death. But here… the taste of fiend’s blood had ignited something inside him he’d never known before. He scraped his own lip against Vladimir’s teeth, seeking to give him this same heady thrill. Vladimir, smiling at his eagerness, nipped at his lip, and Aphelios couldn’t help the giddiness that arose as he felt skin break. Even the slight pain made him giddy with sensation. Vladimir lapped at the wound he’d made, his lips now a bloody crimson.</p><p>“Such a fast learner,” he praised, pressing kisses down Aphelios’ cheek and towards his throat, “Such a good boy for me.”</p><p>“Your Ma-Majesty,” Aphelios gasped, trembling at the praise.</p><p>He was led backwards, carried almost, as he trusted the King not to let him fall. He was led over and up onto the dais. Exchanging kisses all the while until he was sat in the King’s lap atop the crimson covers.</p><p>“Your Majesty?”</p><p>“Ssh,” Vladimir assured him, pressing another brief kiss against his lips, “No need to speak darling. You’ve been through so much.  Relax, we’re going to take such good care of you.”</p><p>We’re? Aphelios wondered what he meant as Vladimir continued to press kisses down his throat- sucking at the point where Aphelios’ heart fluttered hardest. Yet he wasn’t kept confused for very long. A pair of strong hands suddenly grasped him about the waist, lifting him from behind so he knelt between Vladimir and the General. The Dawnbringer had been such a silent observer that Aphelios had briefly forgotten he was there. Yet the grip of his celestial hand was now ice cold against Aphelios’ stomach. The sheer opposite of the hot clawed fingers that were swiftly removing his clothing. The chill was almost painful, but that only made his heart race as he was left hot and cold in turn by different caresses to his body. He’d never felt so much in a short space of time. The Noctum dulled all sensation against his skin but now…without it. Everything was as vivid, real and wondrous as the men surrounding him. He could feel everything. Every scrape of claw, every brush of fingertip… The sheer amount of sensation was making his head spin and his knees weak. He’d never imagined that the touch of another could be so amazing. And there were two people touching him! Could they blame him for craving more?</p><p>Vladimir drew him into another bloody kiss as both men felt the lines of his body. Aphelios panted and moaned as their touch brought equal part pain and pleasure. They appeared to be exploring every inch of him, looking for means to coax out new noises, or find places to kiss that would make him shudder. Shaking from head to toe, he was at their every whim, unable to fight the tide of pure sensation. Too busy mewling and crying out, he couldn’t even hear them converse over his over sensitive form.</p><p>“Have you tried tasting the patch of skin beside his left shoulder blade?” suggested Swain, “He makes the most delightful noises.”</p><p>Vladimir immediately did so, prompting a chorus of whimpers to escape the fiend between them.</p><p>“Delightful indeed,” Vladimir agreed, “You have got to try the inner thigh, the bruises there are already blooming gorgeously. I left you some space to mark him.”</p><p>“How generous.”</p><p>Aphelios gasped as he felt that icy grip spread his thighs, before getting distracted by a nip at one of his pointed ears. It was proving so impossible to keep track who was where and what each was doing to him, that he found himself thoughtlessly swept along. He played his part the best he could, in arching his back and making all the noises they rewarded him for. He moaned as they bit into one shoulder each, smirking at each other as they admired the bloody lines left there. Aphelios held onto Vladimir, drooling a little on his shoulder as they turned him to putty in their hands. Now driven mindless with sensation, they were clearly crafting him into something immensely pleasurable for the pair of them.</p><p>“Take him to the headboard,” Swain ordered, shoving a pile of red and purple clothing off the bed with a loud flump</p><p>“Oh, but I’m not done with my appetiser yet,” Vladimir replied, arms round the touch-drunk Aphelios. He fondled with the younger fiend’s chest as he scraped his fangs against the soft skin of Aphelios’ shoulder and the marks he’d already made there. Aphelios shuddered, the pain as glorious as the pleasure as blood began trickled down his shoulder, only for the king to start lapping it up.</p><p>“You have all night to taste him as many times as you desire,” Swain told him, “But I grow impatient.”</p><p>“And you’ll be here for every second of it,” Vladimir retorted, “Don’t make excuses to me.”</p><p>“There’s no excuses here,” Swain continued, “Merely the time to honour our agreement.  Since I solved the little issue of how to remove his guardian, I get to experience his heat first.”</p><p>Vladimir huffed and rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Such a spoilsport isn’t he, Aphelios? Interrupting our lovely moment together?”</p><p>Aphelios heard himself being addressed and simply nodded. Not able to understand much though his euphoria, he nevertheless knew that agreement would get the sensation to continue.</p><p>“Alright then,” Vladimir sighed, “But I don’t think we need to chain up our adorable little pet.”</p><p>He tweaked one of Aphelios’ nipples, making him whimper loudly.</p><p> “Look at him, he’s completely docile. Why don’t I continue to give him some love from my end whilst you prepare him for us? An angel deflowering a fiend… now this is something worth watching.”</p><p>Vladimir retreated up the bed, his arms still around Aphelios, forcing him to shuffle along with him. There was an enormous stack of pillows, cushions and bolsters arranged at that end. Vladimir sat amidst the pile as if it were a throne. He turned Aphelios and pressing their lips together once more, forcing him onto his hands and knees to continue the kiss.</p><p>“Raise your hips darling,” Vladimir instructed, reaching forward to place Aphelios’ head in his lap for more scratches between the horns. Aphelios obeyed, letting out a hum of contentment as Vladimir resumed his play with hair and horns. He lay, side of his face on Vladimir’s thigh, elbows and knees on the covers as he curved his back to further lift his ass into the air. Exposed to the angel behind him, Aphelios became very aware of the sheer ache between his thighs. He shifted his knees apart a little further in case that would help, but it did nothing to relieve the pressure building inside.</p><p>“Good boy,” praised Vladimir, he glanced up at Swain, “Isn’t he such a good boy?”</p><p>“Perfect,” Swain replied. Aphelios heard the chink of a belt buckle as he kept his eyes on the man stroking him. However, he was swiftly distracted as he felt hands - one cold, one icy, part his thighs a little further. He pushed back into the touch, rewarded by that same grip taking hold of his cheeks, making him cry out from the chill against his warm skin. The feeling was far from unpleasant- the near pain made his erection twitch and his heart race, but it had come unexpectedly against such sensitive regions.</p><p>“Ah,” said Swain. He muttered something Aphelios couldn’t understand but suddenly the frigid grip turned into something far more… lukewarm.</p><p>“You could warm up your fingers all this time?” Vladimir questioned, “Why was I never treated to this darling?”</p><p>“Because I enjoy watching you squirm dear,” Swain replied with a wry smile, “Pass me the oil. I don’t want to break him before we’ve both had a turn.”</p><p>“Oh, so you can be thoughtful,” Vladimir retorted, reaching into the cushion mound and pulling out a small blue glass bottle with a crystal stopper. Bottle passed, Vladimir returned Aphelios to his lap, this time grasping his face with a suggestion of:</p><p>“Whilst our companion makes you feel good from one side, why don’t you help me feel as wonderful as I’ve made you?”</p><p>Aphelios nodded. That was only fair. He’d never felt so many wondrous things in so little time before. He should repay the King however he could for such generosity. Vladimir unfolded his legs and lay back amongst the cushions. He directed Aphelios up off his elbows and onto his hands as he made him lean in between his thighs. Obeying thoughtlessly, Aphelios’ face brushed against the Kings own erection. It was certainly longer, heavier, than his own. The pointed tip prodded at his lips as Vladimir ran his claws through Aphelios’ hair and ordered:</p><p>“Lick.”</p><p>Perhaps once, before this encounter, Aphelios would have found lapping at another man’s cock to be a strange and unusual task. Yet after all the treats he’d been given at dinner, all the cream he’d lapped up like a cat… this didn’t seem odd at all. The constant stream of praise and wonderful petting was all the motivation he needed to start licking the impressive length in front of him. Vladimir moaned his approval as Aphelios laved attention from base to tip, using all his practice from dessert to thoroughly wet every inch. He set about the task with all the determination behind his need to repay the King for all his kindness. If he could make Vladimir feel even as bit as wonderful as he did, then he was on his way to just payment. He listened to the noises Vladimir made, paying special attention to the places that made him cry out and thrust his hips into Aphelios’ face. The younger fiend wasn’t even deterred by the presence of the man behind him. Swain was clearly doing something involving that bottle, but he could not bring himself to care what until he felt a slick finger trace his hole. His breath hitched from such a cold touch against somewhere so intimate. Yet, before he could so much as finish his next lick, the finger slipped inside straight to the knuckle.</p><p>“Aah!”</p><p>Aphelios let out a cry, his body instinctively trying to push back against the invader. Yet he was swiftly distracted by another lukewarm set of fingers taking hold of his cock, making him gasp and moan in sheer pleasure. With the constant pressure on his cock consuming all thought, every sensation became that of pleasure- even the long spectral fingers filling him, probing his quivering insides until</p><p>“G-General!”</p><p>He screamed as the angel touched something inside him that made his vision flash white. The intensity of the sensation had him panting for breath, his tongue against his lips as he struggled to obey his King against this onslaught of ecstasy. Thankfully, Vladimir simplified his task, pressing the head of his cock along his tongue and between Aphelios’ lips, demanding</p><p>“Suck.”</p><p>Aphelios’ eyes closed as he wordlessly obeyed. Somehow, the act of sucking served to ground him as Swain sought to unravel him completely with feelings unlike any he’d ever experienced. Especially not from deep inside himself. He focussed on doing whatever made Vladimir praise him most. Licking and sucking in turn as the King began to thrust between his lips.</p><p>“Ugh, he’s-he’s gorgeous,” Vladimir commented, ”Stop playing around and just fuck him already so I can take a turn.”</p><p>“Patience,” Swain told him, “You’ll want him intact to fuck him after all.”</p><p>“I’m losing the ability to care!” Vladimir declared, giving long slow thrusts into Aphelios’ mouth, “Oh fuck, I knew it!  Fiends all don’t have gag reflexes!”</p><p>“Ah, so it’s not just your slutty mouth,” Swain replied, “Luckily someone here has some restraint.”</p><p>“Fuck restraint and fuck him,” Vladimir growled, “That’s an order, angel.”</p><p>“I’m the being of Order here,” Swain reminded him, “We have the whole night ahead so be patient.”</p><p>Aphelios whimpered in protest as he felt the fingers withdraw from his ass. He’d never had another person’s fingers in there before, but now having them removed made him feel achingly empty. Yet he wasn’t kept waiting for long. Both cold hands took hold of his cheeks once more as something much larger than fingers began to push against his twitching entrance. Vladimir sat up a little straighter, jogging Aphelios’ throat, as he sought to get a better look.  Aphelios tried to continue sucking, he really tried. But it was so difficult to do anything but lie there and feel the immensity of having a cold hard cock press its way between your sensitive inner walls. He panted around the length in his mouth as he screwed his eyes shut once more. All ache of emptiness gone; his nerves were ablaze with this newest of sensations. He felt so full, so stretched, all hot and cold at once and every bit of it was making his heart race and immense pressure build between his thighs that begged for relief.</p><p>Swain let out a low hiss between his teeth.</p><p>“Tight?” Vladimir suggested, “Considering how cold you are, I’m hardly surprised. Is he freezing your sweet little ass, pet?”</p><p>Aphelios didn’t know how to answer. He was too busy drooling around Vladimir’s cock, letting out the occasional choked whimper as he felt Swain shift inside of him. He kept brushing against that place, the one that brought such blinding pleasure. It had the effect of making Aphelios push back against his hips, as if his body was begging for more right there. Vladimir withdrew from his mouth, idly fondling his own length as he commented:</p><p>“Go on then.”</p><p>Aphelios’ arms collapsed, planting his face into a cushion as he felt Swain move inside him. He whined as he feels himself growing emptier, the weight inside him alleviating as the angel withdrew. Yet he wasn’t kept whimpering for long. With one smooth motion, he thrust back in, making Aphelios scream as he was steadily pounded into the covers. The force of each thrust was like a punch to his stomach, making his eyes water and insides convulse – squeezing the large cock inside him even tighter. There would undoubtedly be marks on his hips from that searingly cold grip, but Aphelios couldn’t care. He was too busy moaning with the pummelling his ass was now receiving. Swain had silently increased the pace, watching the ass cheeks before him bounce as the rhythmic slap of skin of skin echoed around the room. Vladimir made small noises of approval as Aphelios began to cry at his feet, his hips shaking as they struggled to keep his ass up against this relentless assault.  The King idly stroked his cock over the younger fiend’s tear-strewn face, speeding up his ministrations so they matched the punishing space of the two men before him.</p><p>Suddenly, it all became too much. With a choked scream, Aphelios felt the sensation overcome him. Every nerve in his body felt like it burned, white hot, as he collapsed onto the covers. Even as he screamed and shuddered, Swain held up his hips so he could continue pounding him open Aphelios felt boneless, having coated himself and the fabric beneath in cum. The assault on his nerves had him clenching even tighter, leaving the angel not too far behind. He let out a grunt as he slammed Aphelios’ hips back against his body and emptied himself, ice cold, into the twitching fiend’s body. The chill only intensified as Aphelios felt hot splashes of cum cover his face and hair, the King huffing his pleasure as he spilled over the semi-conscious man between him and his partner.</p><p>“I want him on his back,” Vladimir declared as soon as Swain retreated, a splattering of cum dripping from Aphelios’ ass.</p><p>“So soon?” Swain replied, sounding a little out of breath but otherwise unaffected by the pounding he’d just given the man below him.</p><p>“Oh please, no one here is mortal,” Vladimir stated. He raised one clawed hand, swirling with crimson magic. Aphelios, still sprawled on the bed, felt his cock harden and groaned. Feeling a little strength return to his limbs, he tried to get back onto his knees, despite the protestations of his sore thighs and twitching hole.</p><p>“See, our dear pet is ready for another round,” Vladimir commented, “And I’ve even prepared him a treat.”</p><p>“I’m not sure you expanding yourself is a treat for him,” Swain replied, “Not to be outdone, are we?”</p><p>“Oh please,” Vladimir chucked, “Let me show you how two fiends really fuck,”</p><p>Aphelios, found himself being turned over, his head in the pillows as Swain sat back and let Vladimir take his position between Aphelios’ thighs. Aphelios merely stared up at them with bleary eyes, immediately rewarded for his attention with a kiss as Vladimir slid on top of him, boxing him in between his arms and legs, making Aphelios feel even smaller.  They exchanged open-mouthed kisses as Vladimir traced all the bruises and bitemarks already left on Aphelios’ body. He followed the trails of his markings, toying briefly with his balls before tracing his thighs with the points of his claws. The sharp edges let red marks on the lavender skin, not quite breaking the skin but the marks remained bloody red. Vladimir stopped kissing Aphelios for a moment to admire his handiwork.</p><p>“There’s something I want you to do for me Aphelios,” he said, before licking his way across the bloody marks on his shoulder.</p><p>“Y-Your…” Aphelios tried to reply but his voice, however newly returned, was now best suited to incoherent moans and screams.</p><p>“Close,” Vladimir told him, “But I’m not ‘your Majesty’ right now. I’ve got a different name I want you to use. Is that ok pet?”</p><p>Aphelios nodded as Vladimir reached up to kiss one pointed ear.</p><p>“From now on,” he whispered, “I’m Master. Understood?”</p><p>Aphelios nodded.</p><p>“What was that?” Vladimir demanded softly, “What did I just say? Let me hear you pet.”</p><p>“Yes-yes Master,” Aphelios managed. Vladimir smiled, fangs nipping at his ear.</p><p>“Very good,” he purred, “Such obedience will always be rewarded. What should your Master do to you?”</p><p>Whimpering, Aphelios felt him press one claw against his fluttering hole, so empty since the angel had left him. A gap had been left inside him; a gap he’d never known he’d had but he so desperately needed it to be filled.  </p><p>“What do you want pet?”</p><p>“M-Master,” Aphelios gasped, “M-Master…inside.”</p><p>“Inside where pet?” Vladimir replied, smirking all the while, “Where does my gorgeous pet want me inside?”</p><p>“B-bottom…” Aphelios managed, “So empty Master…please.”</p><p>“Aw, you poor thing,” Vladimir crooned, stroking the sensitive skin of Aphelios’ backside, drawing blood with the tips of his claws.</p><p>“Did that nasty angel man leave you wanting and empty?” Vladimir continued, shooting a devious look off to the side “Would you prefer to have Master’s much larger, much thicker, cock filling up your achy insides?”</p><p>There was a huff from Swain but no further comment.</p><p>“P-Please Master,” Aphelios begged, “I want…Master’s.”</p><p>“Of course, you do,” Vladimir replied, “And as I am a perfect and generous Master, I will satisfy my darling pet’s request.”</p><p>Somehow, the King was indeed bigger than his General. Aphelios choked as he felt himself torn in two by the searingly-hot length now scorching at his insides. He had raised his knees level with his chest, and now Vladimir was using his spread legs almost like handles as he thrust into him, praising him all the while. In a brief moment of clarity, Aphelios wondered if he could see the outline of Vladimir in his stomach but that thought wasn’t instantly quashed by the onslaught of pain and pleasure.  Thoughts gone, head ablur, Aphelios was filled with nothing but raw pleasure and cock for the rest of the night. There seemed to be no end of energy between the three of them, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of Aphelios until his throat was too sore to continue screaming. Despite the resilience of his erection, by the time he had been passed between angel and fiend a few times, he had nothing left to spill. Yet Vladimir and Swain’s vigour seemed endless. What couldn’t stay inside of Aphelios was making a thorough mess of the sheets. Not that the King seemed to mind getting dirty. Sometime during the night, Vladimir disappeared off whilst Aphelios was sucking Swain off. He returned with a bowl of cream and cake that had certainly be left over from dinner. He fed Aphelios off his fingers and then his cock as Swain made him bounce in his lap, chasing his umpteenth chance for release.</p><p>He was sure at some point they were both inside him – ice and fire impaling him at a punishing pace that felt like it was rearranging his insides. He was so full he couldn’t move. He merely let them hold him up as they quipped back and forth about who was doing the better job at stretching him open. Who was really making him tremble and throw back his head in silent bliss.  He occasionally managed a croaking cry of “Master” when Vladimir said something particularly complimentary about him. However, after having been thoroughly ravished and stretched to his limits, there was little more he could do than let them put him into position and give out tiny moans. He wasn’t even sure that they stopped when he lost consciousness. He lost count of how many times he’d come. How many times who had done what to him. He gravitated towards kind words and nice touches, lay as positioned and accepted everything done to him with a sleepy admiration. By the time everything turned dark, he was fairly sure he had been a good pet for his Master. And maybe the General too. Who knows? Maybe he’d earned another night just as amazing as this?</p>
<hr/><p>Dawn arose a little too quickly for Vladimir’s taste, just as it always did. It was why he kept his windows so tightly shuttered, yet somehow that pesky sunlight always got in. Still wide-awake from a splendid night, he tucked his new pet against his shoulder, stroking his cum-strewn hair as Aphelios remained fast asleep, sandwiched between the men who’d so thoroughly devoured him for hours on end. They had made some effort to get underneath the covers, the topmost coverlet far too filthy to be worth sleeping on. That had been discarded somewhere about the room, probably unsalvageable from all the blood and cum that now stained the fine silk. Swain, also awake, glowed a little brighter as the dawn came, the faint impression of angelic wings haunted the air as he recognised the time when he felt strongest. Yet even he didn’t feel like moving after the veritable fuck-fest they’d had last night. All because a charming little Nightbringer happened to wander into their halls… Well, combine that with some quick thinking on their part, and a masterful plan if he did say so himself.</p><p>“Good anniversary?” Swain groaned as he attempted to rub the drowsiness from his eyes.</p><p>“Wonderful,” Vladimir replied, leaning across his pet to give the angel a quick kiss, “All the better for our surprise guest.”</p><p>“Good,” Swain replied, kissing him in return, “It took a whole bottle of Dawn’s Tears to get the poison out of his system. So, you’ll need to do something about that.”</p><p>“Later,” Vladimir told him, “Who’s going to need a universal antidote before six am?”</p><p>“Who indeed,” Swain agreed, settling back and looking at the smaller being between them, “What did happen to his flask?”</p><p>“Oh, I had it binned,” Vladimir replied, “No need for that nasty poison anymore. Not when he’s my perfect cuddly little pet.”</p><p>He kissed Aphelios on the head and gave him a squeeze. Aphelios merely shuffled closer to him, nosing at Vladimir’s shoulder and letting out a small snore.</p><p>“He’s tamed now, but he is still a Nightbringer,” Swain reminded him, “You don’t know what’ll happen when he figures out the truth.”</p><p>Vladimir raised a dismissive hand.</p><p>“Oh, I’ll just get him a collar, that will suit all our needs. And who knows. Perhaps if he gets used to living here, he’ll find what he’s after in the end. An angel, a fiend…”</p><p>He gestured them both.</p><p>“Yes, I think he’ll find unity quite sweet. If, of course, he follows my <strong>every</strong> command.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Rise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Falling to the seduction of his new Masters, Aphelios starts a new life in the King of Night's castle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Swain opened his mouth to say something.</p><p>“No,” Vladimir stated, before he could get any words out, “I don’t want to hear it.”</p><p>The Dawnbringer raised an eyebrow at him before glancing back at the blood leaking out from beneath the wooden door beside them. It was running along the stone floor like water upset from a bath, trickling through the cracks before overflowing to lap at their boots. Considering it was flowing at quite the pace, a lot of mortals had to be involved to produce that much gore. It would be impressive, if Vladimir hadn’t seen this exact sight twice already this week.</p><p>Swain decided to have another go at speaking.</p><p>“If,” Vladimir cut him off, holding up one clawed finger to silence the angel, “You’re going to say ‘I told you so’ – there’s no point. I won’t listen to you.”</p><p>“I wasn’t going to say that,” Swain replied, “I was planning to start along the lines of  ‘what did you expect would happen’ and go from there.”</p><p>Vladimir scowled at him, adjusting his coat as the chaos magic at the hem absorbed the worst of the blood stains. He folded his arms, resting one elbow on the other as he tasted the blood on his claws. A fine vintage, but ever so inconvenient. Didn’t he appreciate how long it took to get blood out of flagstones? And then there was the furnishings, the upholstery, the woodwork… and he’d have to recruit new staff! Such a bother.</p><p>“Well, not this,” he retorted, “He was so well behaved on that first night, I thought it would be a simple matter of collaring and keeping him. All evidence pointed in that direction.”</p><p>“You expected another Nightbringer to just roll over and obey,” Swain commented, “Despite being one yourself and knowing their nature?”</p><p>“He was so young, needy and desperate,” Vladimir sighed, “Amazed by my very presence. I don’t blame him. But it was abundantly clear he was bowled over by being in the presence of one of his kin. He was doing everything I asked even before you gave him the antidote. How was I supposed to know that underneath that sweet interior was…this?”</p><p>He glared at the blood-leaking door.</p><p>“I warned you he wouldn’t be like anyone you’d ensnared before,” Swain reminded him, “He’s a half-soul. Half a person. He isn’t going to behave with the same logic we do.”</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Vladimir drummed his claws against his face as he considered the blood flow.</p><p>“You enabled this, so it’s much your fault as mine,” he told his General, “So don’t go all high and mighty on me. You enjoyed him as much as I did.”</p><p>“I never denied that,” Swain replied, “I just wanted you to know I never thought it would be as simple as you did.”</p><p>“Well, one thing is simple,” Vladimir stated, “He’s not getting let off his collar again. I’d prefer to have him in his right mind, but at the end of the night I want a pet, not a raving lunatic. The collar is permanent.”</p><p>Swain didn’t appear to have anything to say to that. He merely watched as Vladimir took the familiar silver collar off his belt and strode towards the door. Blood splashed under his feet before being absorbed by the end of his coat, making the flood part behind him like a travelling sponge. The King rapped twice at the door to make his presence known, before directing his magic at the door. It opened at such a speed that it banged against the adjacent wall. However, that wasn’t Vladimir’s dilemma. He let out a sigh as a foot tall wave of gore sought to beset him. Now unrestrained by the door, it sought to wash over his freshly-laundered trousers and make a mess of everything beyond. Vladimir, of course, wasn’t going to let it. With a flick of his wrist, he gathered all the blood off the ground and stored it neatly in a whirling pillar of crimson beside the door. There were bits of limbs, the occasional finger, definitely some hair, in his blood tornado. Ugh, he’d have to have it filtered before any of it was bottled. What a waste of someone else’s precious time.</p><p>Letting the whirling vortex of gore do its thing, he crossed the room to where he knew his pet now lay. Thankfully the sheer number of mortals he’d got through had managed to wear Aphelios out. For he now lay limply in a tangle of blood-stained limbs and ruined clothing. Collar ready, Vladimir approached him slowly, gauging exactly how exhausted his pet had become. Clearly not enough, for as soon as Vladimir was within reach, he felt claws sink through the leather of his boot. Glancing downwards, he saw one of Aphelios’ hands around his ankle. He loosely shook his leg and Aphelios let go.</p><p>“That’s what I thought,” Vladimir told him, crouching down to inspect the mess of a man. Aphelios lay on his side, curling into a tight ball as soon as the King knelt beside him. Yet he was weary he could barely move. He shifted a little, as if trying to squirm out of Vladimir’s grip, however it was no use.</p><p>“You see this?” Vladimir said, pointing at the blood tornado, “This, is why you can’t have nice things.”</p><p>Aphelios hissed at him, opening his mouth to expose red-tipped fangs. Vladimir sighed.</p><p>“Yes, hiss,” he replied, “Let’s help you get those predator instincts under control, shall we?”</p><p>To his credit, the younger Nightbringer did try and squirm out of the way. However, it was no trouble at all to simply clip the ring of silver back round his throat. As soon as he was bound, Vladimir sat on the floor, easily picking up the smaller Nightbringer and placing him in his lap. He waited for a moment until Aphelios stopped wiggling and lay limp in his embrace. Vladimir sighed as he felt the young fiend start to sob in his arms, one of his horns digging into his shoulder as the King held him close and let him get it all out.</p><p>“I…I hate you,” Aphelios cried as the King smoothed back his blood-stained hair out of his face.</p><p>“I know,” Vladimir told him, “But here we are.”</p><p>This was how it always went. Well, this was how it went every time they’d done this over the last few weeks. Each and every time, Vladimir was sure it was safe to take the collar off.  Aphelios was the perfect level of demure and docile for his liking. He did everything his King wanted whenever his King wanted it. Of course he was still very reserved most of the time. The bond of trust between them had been thoroughly fractured. Yet, he was still putty in Vladimir’s hands once he overwhelmed him with pleasing sensations. Especially when he pet Aphelios’ hair or scratched him behind the horns – as he was currently doing.  Yet, as soon as Vladimir was certain that Aphelios had spent enough time with the collar, his pet always made a right mess of things. It was like he hunted down the room with the most mortals in it and started killing everyone inside it. Annoyingly, Aphelios seemed to be seeking out the strongest looking opponents, tearing apart guards with tooth and claw in a fantastically gory display of pure chaotic strength.  Well, it was annoying in the sense that Vladimir was losing guards. Aphelios’ skill was a sight to behold, it was just inconvenient right now.</p><p>“General!” Vladimir called, “Come hither!”</p><p>Swain stuck his head around the door, took one look at the gore vortex, then sighed.</p><p>“I am not having intercourse in the blood room,” he stated, “I have better ways to occupy my time.”</p><p>Vladimir let out a dramatic sigh. Always too good to have sex in the blood room.  You would think he was the only one committed to this relationship!</p><p>“How about I wash him up first?” he suggested.</p><p>“Then I might warm up to the idea,” Swain replied, “You know where to find me.”</p><p>Vladimir rolled his eyes as he left in a trail of shimmering white.  He truly did have to do everything around here! Picking Aphelios up with ease, he carried the younger fiend out the room and back upstairs towards his bathing chamber.</p><p>“You’re going to make this worth my while,” he told the man in his arms. Aphelios mumbled something like ‘yes master’ before burying his face in Vladimir’s coat. This was also how it went after all of Aphelios’ other little rampages. Swain had talked his ear off about the volatility with dealing with a ‘half-soul’. Because of the weird way in which this little Nightbringer had formed, he was supposed to be even more dangerous and unpredictable than even your average fiend – which was saying something considering they were all beings of Chaos. It likely didn’t aid matters that Aphelios hadn’t been properly socialised with fellow Nightbringers or mortals. As far as Vladimir had got with extracting Aphelios’ story from him, before he’d realised he’d been tricked, he’d discovered that the younger fiend had spent most of his existence living wild. Their initial meeting, and the feast that followed, presented Aphelios with so many new things that he’d been rather overwhelmed and at awe with the proceedings. However, now the veil had been lifted, the comforts of the castle had clearly lost their appeal. Now he was acting like a stray cat. He was definitely very violent and bitey– as the dozens of dead mortals confirmed quite easily. However once he got presented some affection he utterly melted under those reassurances. Swain said he was trying to fill in the missing part of himself with one of two options. The first was an effort to find his sister again – by fighting everything that moved. Alternately he was attempting to replace the sense of closeness and affection he now lacked – by crawling into the King’s arms and doing whatever he said.</p><p>Needless to say, Vladimir preferred the latter. When Aphelios finally remember where he was and who he belonged to, his behaviour was frankly delightful. He might try to mumble how much he hated the King, how evil he was for tricking him, but never once had Vladimir forced him to do anything. If Aphelios had told him ‘no’ to sex, he wouldn’t have been happy, but he’d have simply waited until Aphelios was in a more needy mood. He’d suggested, seduced, instructed, but not once had he forced. Even the collar wasn’t that controlling. No, Aphelios obeyed him in bed because he wanted to. Wanted the others to take control of his mental state, likely because he didn’t want to think about how he was feeling right there and then. This turned him into a rather desperate and needy partner, which Vladimir enjoyed immensely. Especially as his so-called partner tended to be very restrained and orderly about their sex life, it was a nice change to have someone so open about their desires. Also Swain rarely let him be the one on top, which was frankly inconsiderate. With Aphelios he never had that problem.</p><p>Aphelios was definitely leaning in a needy direction as they made their way into the Royal Baths. He tucked his head into the crook of Vladimir’s neck as they entered the baths. Attendants scattered in their wake as he strode into the room, not daring to get between the King and his new pet. A wise choice, considering it had been one of the bath attendants who had made life so difficult for him in the first place. Once they had the baths to themselves, Vladimir lowered Aphelios into the shallowest of hot baths, before starting to remove his own clothing. Aphelios looked up with such want and sadness in his eyes that Vladimir was quite sure they were going to need another bath to clean up after this one.</p><p>“You’re not going to tell the General we had fun without him, are you pet?” he told Aphelios.</p><p>“No Master,” the little fiend muttered, starting to remove his now very sodden garments from the water. The bath had turned very red from the amount of gore Aphelios was covered in, but when had that ever stopped him? Once nude, Vladimir slid into the bath, gathering up his newly obedient into his arms. Aphelios leant his head on his chest as if begging for more horn-scritches Vladimir was all too-pleased to provide. He raked his claws along Aphelios’ scalp in a way that guaranteed to make him keen and shudder.</p><p>“Much better,” he told Aphelios, “Isn’t that much better pet?”</p><p>Aphelios nodded - a few tears escaping even as he purred.</p>
<hr/><p>Aphelios wanted to cry. Occasionally, he wanted to scream. Yet right here and now he could do with a very long and thorough cry. Yet it appeared his ability to weep beyond the first few tears had gone into the dark and bottomless pit where his heart once lay. Despite the fiendish heat of his blood, he could never shake off the cold that seemed to have gripped him from horn to toe.  It was a vast emptiness, centred in his chest, heavy and aching that reminded him day and night of what he had lost, what had been taken from him. The world itself felt duller, as if he’d somehow become undone from reality, a step apart from feeling how real everything was around him. Because it was real. The stone, the collar, the touches, all so real…but life couldn’t be the same without his other half. He’d never so keenly known what it was like to be incomplete. Before he’d met Alune he’d felt that yearning, but never had it consumed him like an icy fever. Now he was the spirit, there but not truly so. Half a person, half a mind, half a spirit, half of anything. There but not truly there at the same time.</p><p>He’d lost her and it was all his fault. He had done this to himself. Perhaps he deserved this torment, this state he had put himself into. Before he had found his other half for the first time, it had not been as bad as this. Yes, he was consumed by his own primal desires, but he had never known back then. Never experienced what it was like to feel whole, to feel loved, to have someone there. Knowing it, feeling it, being whole for that time, had just the made loss worse now he was back to being nothing again. If he had just listened to Alune. If he had just trusted her instincts like he’d had gone so many times before… Well, he’d never ended up in this sorry state.</p><p>It hadn’t just been juice.</p><p>She had tried to warn him, tried to tell him not to drink it, not to accept the King’s food and drink. Even if her opinions had needed thinking over, the Grand General had used them to drive the pair of them apart. He’d picked up on their rift and widened it to the point that Aphelios had grown reckless with anger. Shouldn’t he have known the danger of drinking strange liquids? He drank poison as a lifestyle! Yet no, the trap had been in the juice and he hadn’t known until so many weeks later. Not until he’d spoken to the same mortals who had attended to him the first time he’d used the Royal Baths. He’d thanked them for helping him and one had commented on how nice his voice was.</p><p>“It’s such a good thing the King got rid of that horrible poison!” she’d carried on, even as her colleagues backed away.</p><p>All three of those mortals were now dead. Not on that occasion, but Aphelios’ first collar-less rampage had been in the baths a few days later. Quite frankly, he was struggling to regret any of the deaths he’d caused. All these mortals served the King, some of them had even been involved in trapping him here, they were all guilty in his eyes.</p><p>At first Aphelios hadn’t wanted to believe it. He’d finished his bath in shocked silence, trying to puzzle through the ramifications of what he’d just heard. If the King had got rid of his Noctum, then that whole thing about having someone search for his flask must have been a lie. Vladimir had known exactly where it was, because he’d already had his servants throw it out! He’d first slept with the King as a distraction from his loss, to gain a source of comfort whilst the poison was missing, which… He hadn’t fully known when first he’d puzzled it out, but he came to correctly assume that the theft of his poison was all one great scheme to get him into the King’s bed. As soon as that fateful bath was done, he went sprinting back to the King’s personal lounge. He threw accusation after accusation at the King and the General, both of whom were waiting there for him there to take their noon meal together. Aphelios yelled at them until he was red in the face, accusing them of treachery and deception, of turning him against his sister, of tricking him into taking some sort of antidote, of using his confusion to turn him into their…their house pet! By the time he was out of breath, Swain had taken out a book. Vladimir was merely watching with a faint trace of amusement on his face.</p><p>“Very clever pet, now do you want any hot chocolate or not?”</p><p> Aphelios spluttered at him.</p><p>“That’s-that’s it?” he replied, fisting his hands in his breeches as the King fussed about with the tea tray, “That was your plan?”</p><p>He’d expected some sort of denial. At least a comforting platitude that he was overthinking the whole thing. But no, Vladimir merely patted the arm of his chair as if he expected Aphelios to obediently hop into his lap. He might have done, if this was yesterday, if this were any of the weeks leading up to this moment. But not now. Not when the truth sought to crush him.</p><p>“Of course,” the King replied, “And look how much better you are for it. You’re well-fed, warm, dressed nicely, and you have a long and luxurious life ahead of you. No need to hunt and scavenge to survive, no need to sleep on the dirt, and your poison-drinking days are very much behind you.”</p><p>Something inside Aphelios crumbled at his words. Perhaps it was the last of his trust in the King finally tumbling down. Perhaps it was the crushing sense of loneliness and betrayal as it was confirmed that everyone in this room had conspired to make him into their <em>thing. </em>He had liked the General, respected him even, when Swain had let him voice his opinions and made him feel welcome since that initial meeting. Yet even wasn’t denying their deception, just watching this all unfold from behind his tome. And the King… The King had been the most amazing person Aphelios had ever met.  His first fellow Nightbringer, one who treated him with such care and affection. But did Vladimir even see him as a person? Waking up with a silver collar around his throat had been rather startling, but Vladimir had said it was for his own protection. That it would mean the mortals and any visitors to the castle wouldn’t see him as a threat. Was that a lie too? It wasn’t hurting him but… was this just another claim of ownership? Did…did he actually mean anything to these people?</p><p>“But…but Alune?”</p><p>“Oh I’m sure she’s fine,” Vladimir waved a dismissive hand even as Aphelios stared at him, wide-eyed, heart breaking.</p><p>“Now are you going to join us or not pet?”</p><p>Aphelios only reply was to sink to the floor and curl up into a ball. The King clearly took this as a sign of defeat, for the next day he made the mistake of taking Aphelios’ collar off. The surge of animalistic rage had been like nothing Aphelios had felt in a long time. What felt like sadness and regret whilst he was collared swiftly turned into anger and a desperate need to get free. With no Alune to stop them, it had taken so little to bring back his old instincts. The need to fight, the need to bleed his foes dry, the need to get Stronger.  He had found his other half, found her and kept her safely with him for so many years. Yet in the end he’d failed. He’d lost her again and that feral part of him knew why. He hadn’t been strong enough. Despite his copious training, his decades of fighting the deadliest threats the wild had to offer, he had failed. A few honeyed words and sweet treats, and he’d proved as weak as a newly born cub. Therefore he had no choice but to pick up where he left off. He drank in the life-fluid of his foes, letting them fuel his rage, letting him push himself even further. When he was stronger, when he could defeat even the most resilient mortal, he would make his escape. He would fight every soul that crossed his path until he was reunited with his other half. Well, not quite every soul. Even through his bloodlust, Aphelios knew that his captors weren’t within his reach. The elder fiend and angel were too old, too powerful, for him to have a hope of besting them in combat. It was always one of them who’d find him post-rampage, put the collar back on, and turn him back into their willing tool. The crash after the blood-high always made him feel ten times worse. Often exhausted and injured, he’d have no choice but curl up into the King’s arms and submit to whatever punishment came next. Somehow the collar made giving in all the easier – a solid reminder that he’d been claimed and owned. That he’d lost. That he belonged here now. As soon as that solid silver was back around his neck, he found his will to fight melting away into a sorry state of desperate loss.</p><p>Some traitorous part of Aphelios’ brain liked to remind him that everything the King said was technically true. He was in better shape than he’d been in years. He was getting three luxurious meals a day, didn’t have to walk miles on bare feet, and he was provided with all the clothes and accessories he could ever ask for. Not only that, he was being given more physical love and affection than he’d ever received in his lifetime. Even as his mind railed against it, his body was weak to the warm embrace of his ‘master.’ Weak to gentle touches, be it the stroking of his hair or scratches behind his horns, it was like his mind turned to mush every time it was presented with tender intimacy. He sought out that intimacy every time the sadness grew too much to bear. Even when he was trying to shout at the King, desperately yell at him for subjecting him to this torture, he was silenced by a mere touch to his face. The older fiend didn’t even need to be giving Aphelios his full attention to render him putty in his hands. Sometimes Vladimir would just sit him in his lap whilst doing other things – occasionally petting his head but otherwise letting him just curl up and sleep there.</p><p>He didn’t know why he kept sleeping with the King. He didn’t know why he said yes even though usually his veins coursed with hatred for the man. It was as if, as soon as sex was being considered, his mind flipped a switch from sensible to helpless that he couldn’t wrestle back.  Being so close to another living being, another Nightbringer, was something he craved down to his core. This was something he’d never had before, something he never thought he’d have, wandering the countryside with only Alune for company. These days he didn’t even have her and his need for companionship was all the greater for it. Sex was just another means not to feel so alone, one that happened to come with its own form of ecstasy. Whilst he was cuddled up between the Vladimir and Swain, pressed between two bodies with one of their arms around him, it was impossible to feel lonely.  And ‘Lonely’ seemed to be his constant state of existence when they left him be.</p><p> It seemed the King realised that leaving Aphelios alone served to lead his thoughts back into rebellious misery. He started coming up with things for him to do, like reading books or painting pictures, but when Aphelios started painting pictures of Alune and leaving them in his bedroom, Vladimir changed tactic. When the King was doing his “very important kingly duties”, Aphelios was left in the company of Grand General Swain. This meant long hours sat in the Dawnbringer’s study as he worked, but surprisingly, Aphelios found himself preferring these moments to having to follow around after the King on a lead. For one, the general didn’t treat him like he was some animal to be tamed. Swain called Aphelios by name rather than ‘pet’ and never made him sit on the floor. Instead, when the angel realised this was going to be a regular occurrence, he installed a large armchair in one corner of his study and had it piled high with cushions and blankets. Aphelios was free to make himself a nest of soft furnishings and sit there in melancholy silence. Swain mostly left him to his own devices, but sometimes he would explain to Aphelios the work he was doing. These swiftly turned into rambles about a ‘new world order’ or stories about Swain’s forays onto the battlefield. However Aphelios wasn’t required to reply to any of these rants, so he often just went to sleep midway through. Occasionally Swain would give him a book to read, finding him ones with pictures so he could understand most of what was going on.  Over the following months of this routine, Aphelios thought he was getting better at literacy in general. However, that wasn’t the improvement he wanted to be making. He needed to get stronger. He needed a chance to escape, a chance to return to Alune. Yet, whilst under the constant watch of his masters, those chances seemed to be getting ever slimmer as time went on.</p><p> </p><p>Four months after that cruel betrayal, a new guest arrived at the King of Night’s castle. Unlike Aphelios, she didn’t come on foot, neither did she wander cluelessly through the preparations of a feast with no idea of what waited inside. In fact she turned up in a carriage. A fanfare of trumpet blasts announcing her arrival so loudly that it echoed all the way up to Swain’s study, jerking Aphelios awake from his depression nap beneath the pile of cushions. Swain put down his quill and audibly groaned:</p><p>“It’s her, isn’t it.”</p><p>Aphelios met their new arrival that night at dinner. His eyes widened when he spotted the purplish hues, reddish hair and preference for gold that seemed to be universal across all Nightbringers.</p><p>“Oh, you haven’t met my adorable pet,” Vladimir commented as he spotted Swain and Aphelios arrive for dinner.</p><p>“No, pretty sure I’ve met the angel before,” replied the female Nightbringer, a smirk playing across her painted lips. Vladimir grinned as Swain rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Sorry, my <em>new</em> pet, not my husband,” Vladimir elaborated, “Aphelios, come here. There’s someone you should meet.”</p><p>Aphelios joined him, instantly feeling the King’s claws in his hair. He shuddered and blushed as the new Nightbringer inspected him from top to bottom with bright red eyes. She was very scantily clad in her red and gold bodysuit that neglected to cover most of her chest and stomach. Her claws were as long as Vladimir’s but each had been studded with gemstones, rubies mostly, so her hands glittered red as she moved them. Aphelios couldn’t help but notice that one of her horns appeared fake. She was wearing a headdress filled with jewels and feathers, perhaps to distract from that, but the horn on the right-hand side looked like it was made from a hollow metal tube, whilst the other was the real deal.</p><p>“Le Blanc, this is Aphelios, my little toy. Aphelios, this is Lady Le Blanc, one of our more illustrious allies.”</p><p>“Oh you do know how to choose them,” Le Blanc commented, bending down to get a better look at Aphelios, “He’s cute certainly. Though I would question why he’s got such an aura of silent rage.”</p><p>“Oh that’s nothing,” Vladimir assured her, “Shall we?”</p><p>He beckoned for her to sit for dinner. Yet Aphelios couldn’t help but notice that Lady Le Blanc’s gaze lingered on him far longer than a single course of their meal. She didn’t talk to him for the entirety of the formal dinner but he often felt her eyes burning a hole through the back of his head. By the end of the meal he wasn’t sure whether to be fearful or intrigued. After what happened with Vladimir, he certainly wasn’t going to be putting any trust in her. However he really wanted to know what had made him so interesting to stare at.</p><p>He didn’t get his chance to ask until the second week of her stay. She spent most of the first ensconced in a meeting room with Vladimir and Swain, no doubt discussing whatever their plans for how they were going to make the most of the ongoing conflict This meant Aphelios was left to his own devices, securely locked in the bedroom he barely ever used. He spent most of the time reading or painting, working on his illustrations of the Noctum flower as if the very imagery of it would bring himself a step closer to Alune. It was during one of these painting sessions that there was a sharp knock on his door. Aphelios jumped and turned, unused to people knocking if they wanted his attention. The King just strode in whenever he wanted.</p><p>“Yes?” he called tentatively.</p><p>The door opened to reveal the new Nightbringer in all her glittery red glory. She closed the door behind her as she entered the room, stopping only when she was in the centre of the room beside Aphelios’ artistic efforts.</p><p>“We must talk,” Lady Le Blanc stated, imperiously surveying Aphelios and his rather messy array of paints and paper. Aphelios stared up at her in shock. Talk? Why? What could she possibly have to say to him? Quite frankly her presence in his room was making him increasingly anxious, his trust in fellow Nightbringers had been thoroughly wrecked. If she didn’t state what she wanted soon, he was going to get out of here.</p><p>“What about?” he asked nervously.</p><p>She bent over, looping one of her jewelled claws through the silver collar around his neck. Aphelios flinched but was unable to escape the tug on his throat as she pulled him to his feet.</p><p>“This,” she said, lifting the collar between thumb and forefinger, “It’s practically an embarrassment to see one of my own kind kept like a slave like this.”</p><p>Aphelios blinked up at her. An embarrassment? Try being the slave. He didn’t want this any more than she did!</p><p>“I’m sorry?” he tried, “This wasn’t my choice.”</p><p>“I’d realised,” Le Blanc told him, “And that’s why I’m going to help you do something about it.”</p><p>What?! Le Blanc let go of his collar, allowing him to stagger back from him, clutching at his neck.</p><p>“Also I’m fed up of those absolute dastards giving orders like they own everything already!” Le Blanc continued, “They’re so unbearably smug, feeling like they’ve got control of everyone’s destiny. That fucking angel has made world domination so damn orderly it’s sucked all the fun out of it. With his plans and his maps and his paperwork. This place is so boring – it needs an injection of real Chaos!”</p><p>Ah. So she didn’t really want to help him, she wanted to make things harder for Vladimir and Swain. Perhaps Swain in particular, by her comments. Honestly, he’d take it at the point. Help for any reason was still help after all.</p><p>“Do you hate the Grand General?” he asked, wondering if he riled her up further, the greater her help might be.</p><p>“Hate?” she retorted, “Hate! I loathe the sight of that pompous windbag. Why I would have crushed him under my heel a hundred times over, if, he hadn’t got married to my most valuable of allies.”</p><p>Aphelios opened his mouth to ask what that now had to do with him, but she wasn’t done talking yet.</p><p>“You may have surmised,” Le Blanc continued, “That I once had two horns.”</p><p>Aphelios nodded, he’d definitely assumed that much. He had two horns, so did Vladimir, so it was natural that she’d once had two too.</p><p>“Well how I lost my horn is a long and glorious story, that I do not have sufficient time to tell in its magnitude,” Le Blanc stated, “However all you need to know, was that it was a certain Grand General of the Dawn who sliced the appendage clean off my skull.”</p><p>Well that explained why she hated him then. Aphelios couldn’t help but feel that helping him would inconvenience the King, her ally, more than it would the General. However, he wasn’t going to point that out.</p><p>“We both departed from that battlefield, wounded, bloody, exhausted,” Le Blanc explained, “And I swore that the next time we met I would end that stuffed up bag of feathers. But no! No! My plans foiled! My efforts denied! For where did I see him next?”</p><p>She looked at Aphelios as if he had the answer. He didn’t.</p><p>“Up the ass of my most powerful ally!” Le Blanc proclaimed, throwing one hand in the air in a melodramatic display of frustration, “And do you know what he had the nerve to say to me? The first time we had met as nemeses after a hundred years?”</p><p>Aphelios shook his head, understanding she would tell him anyway.</p><p>Le Blanc put on a very deep voice that sounded nothing like the General.</p><p>“<em>Close the door behind you, will you. I have my hands full</em>. – Yes, hands full of my ally’s very intact horns as he used them as handles for his – AAGH!”</p><p>She let out a shriek of frustration that rattled the nearby window. Aphelios recoiled at the noise as the Chaos around her surged, scattering the papers around turning them crimson. He scrambled for a few of his better paintings as paper took to the air in a whirlwind of purplish red magic. He backed off, clutching his flower pictures as her scream died in her throat along with this burst of power. Clearly Lady Le Blanc was another force not to be trifled with.  He was trapped between three figures of immense power, all of whom wanted something from him. All of whom had plans for the world around them. Yet this one… could this one help him? Could she turn this power against the other two, in the name of spiting her nemesis? Nothing in this life was free so the question remained – what did he have to do to get her to act against them?</p><p>“What do you want from me?” Aphelios asked quietly, now backed up against the foot of the bed. She whipped around him, eyes gleaming a brighter red than even the rubies on her person.</p><p>“Chaos.” Le Blanc proclaimed, “I want Chaos in this stagnant hole of a structure! I want your word, you to swear in the name of Darkness, that you will make his life a living hell in my stead. I will give you the means to do so, a head start if you will. Your collar. That is the key to reigning Disorder upon this fortress!”</p><p>“Can-can you take it off?” Aphelios asked, looking beseechingly up at the ranting Nightbringer.</p><p>Le Blanc’s painted lips stretched into a wicked grin.</p><p>“I do one better than that little one,” she said, her voice full of devious glee, “I can teach you to resist its effects. Master it. So you can act with your mind as your own, but they’ll think you’re still under their spell.”</p><p>Aphelios’ eyes widened as he looked at her. Spell? So this collar was magical after all?</p><p>She crouched down, her voice dropping into the conspiratorial whisper.</p><p>“Do you know exactly what they’ve done to you?”</p><p>Aphelios shook his head. If there was magic on this silver circle, he had never been able to sense it. Never known what the jewellery was for apart from making him look owned. As if he couldn’t help himself, he reached up to touch the silver circlet around his neck. It had no visible lock or mechanism once it was on him – a perfectly smooth band of metal with no physical imperfections at all. Most of the time he could barely feel its presence. Only when he faced his reflection in the baths, of the King attached a leash, did he remember the thing was even there.</p><p>“I used to make these,” Le Blanc told him, “Mine were a lot more beautiful, but the enchantment is simple enough.  Simple but ever so insidious. It doesn’t force the wearer to do what the master wishes, no that would be far too crude.  It plants a willingness into the wearer’s mind, a persuasive little voice that the wearer will often mistake for their own. Forcing is so last millennia, making your victim think they want to obey you has been all the rage for quite time. These collars make you want to obey, they feed you the notion that obeying was what you wanted to do all along. That you want to submit, that submitting is what your brain needs most. Then it makes you feel happy for doing so. Rewards you for that excellent decision you just made. It supplies both the persuasion and the reward whilst securing the illusion of free choice.”</p><p>Aphelios clutched at the collar a little tighter. This…this thing was in his thoughts?!</p><p>“Do you have that little voice?” Le Blanc asked of him, “A part of your mind that reminds you how good you have it every time you start to doubt your surroundings? Perhaps you get thoughts that maybe you’re better off, with the King and that Angel? That things aren’t that bad really, especially if you just ignore the pain and endure? Perhaps there’s one part of your brain that yearns for a specific comfort, and believes your masters are the only way to obtain it?”</p><p>“Yes,” Aphelios breathed, “Yes all of that.”</p><p>Even as he spoke it felt like a veil was being lifted. The thoughts that told him he was better off here than living free outside. The part of his mind that always argued that going back to the King, getting affection from him, would ease the pain of his separation from his other half. Everything that made him give in, submit, try and wait it out because what other did he have… That was this collar muddying his thoughts?</p><p> </p><p>“How do I fight it?” he asked.</p><p>Le Blanc snickered, reaching forth to gently stroke his face. He instantly recoiled from her touch. Even though it was exactly the same gesture the King did, he was instantly revolted by the attention. As if the thought of being petted by someone who wasn’t his master disgusted him to the core. But...but why did he want to be petted in the first place? Why did he want to be reduced to something less than a fiend, less than mortal? Le Blanc merely nodded as if he’d just proved everything she’d told him. Aphelios let out a little gasp. Did…did he accept the petting from Vladimir because this collar was telling him being reduced to an animal was ok when his ‘master’ did it? The collar was feeding off his lack of experience with being touched! It was persuading him to seek out that treatment? To demean himself for affection just like the King wanted!</p><p>“The remedy lies within,” Le Blanc told him, “To become so certain in your sense of self that the enchantment can no longer have any effect. You must know exactly who you are and what you want, know yourself with such certainty so you can sort out the fake thoughts from what truly matters. Driving the spell back is easy once you know yourself inside and out. An easy way to build up this confidence, is to establish a daily routine of self-assertion. Every morning and evening sit and contemplate what makes you you. Tell yourself, silently chant if it helps, who you are and what your goals in life should be. Remind yourself that you are your own person and there is no greater value than in being you.”</p><p>Internally assert himself? He could try that.</p><p>“And when you have control over senses, raise a little hell, will you?” Le Blanc suggested, “For me, but more importantly, for yourself. Can you promise me that?”</p><p>“Yes,” Aphelios replied, gaze filling with determination as he stared back at her, “I will make them regret demeaning me, us. I will make them regret taking my sister from me. I am a being of Chaos as much as you and the King, I can bring hell upon this castle.”</p><p>“Perfect,” Le Blanc commented as she straightened back up, “Good luck little fiend. I mustn’t stray in here too long. The King might think we’re up to something.”</p><p>Aphelios dared give her a little smile as she gave him one last mischievous grin. His lips cracked a little, the muscles of his face feeling ever so strange. When was the last time he’d smiled? He couldn’t recall…</p><p>From that evening onwards, Aphelios tried her advice. That night he sat cross-legged in the King’s bed whilst the fiend and angel squabbled over who was cheating at chess. Closing his eyes, he created his own little chant, letting it ring through his mind like the peal of a bell marking the hours.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>I am Aphelios and I am my own being.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I am Aphelios and I am my own being.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I am Aphelios and I am but half a soul.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>My other half is out there. Alune is out there. I cannot rest until we are whole once more.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I want nothing but her.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I want nothing but freedom.</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>I am Aphelios and I am my own being.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I am Aphelios and I am my own being.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I am Aphelios and I am but half a soul.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>My other half is out there. Alune is out there. I cannot rest until we are whole once more.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I want nothing but her.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I want nothing but freedom.</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Over the next few weeks, long after Le Blanc made her exit from the castle, Aphelios challenged every thought that sprung to his mind. He let no notion go unanswered, asking why he wanted what he wanted, why he did what he did. Feeling as if he’d laid himself out like a fish on a platter, he dissected the very workings of his mind as he sat in the silence of the General’s study. He tore apart the fabric of his own recollections as he lay by the King’s side. Because the process was silent, utterly contained inside his own head, his captors were none the wiser to the mental effort he was going through. Sure he obeyed their every command, came when called, but he was now understanding why he was doing it. Why he would even want to do it. Over time, he came to imagine his thoughts to be a jumble of yarn, yet the colour of his own thoughts was only a slightly different shade to the ones the collar, the ones his master, had planted there. It was now his job to tell the difference between the shades, and untangle everything he’d been led to believe was his own. It took time, a lot of concentration, and plenty of headaches to try and separate the two. Yet after much railing and tugging at his own thought process, he thought he could finally find a way of organising that jumbled mess. He created himself a series of questions, thoughts to organise thoughts. When his brain wanted him to do something, he first asked himself why he wanted to do that. He needed to ascertain a reason as to why that thought had happened in the first place. The next step was to take that reason and ask who that really benefited. Was the action going to improve his life, or was he doing something the King wanted? Sometimes those things could be one and same. Sometimes he needed to do those things to keep up the illusion of being under the collar’s control. However it was important to understand how and why those thoughts occurred, rather than just blindly doing what they said. The King and Grand General didn’t seem to have noticed anything different about his behaviour. Or at least theirs remained unchanged. Admittedly, he was still obeying everything they wanted from him. Still following their orders, sitting in their laps, crawling into their beds, but that wasn’t a sign of weakness anymore. He knew why he was doing it. He understood what influence the collar had and was doing it regardless. To keep up the act. To buy him time before he could work out what to do with new conscious acknowledgement. Yet he couldn’t drop his awareness even for a second. One thoughtless obedience and the collar would take hold again. Occasionally, especially in the throws of passion, he felt his awareness slipping. However his chant always brought him right back to where he needed to be.</p><p>Losing the collar’s influence also came with a distinct danger. As far as Aphelios could tell, the reassurances of the enchantment were satisfying the wild part of him that wanted to fight for everything he wanted. He felt that frenzy rise within his veins more than once as he tried to rid himself of the magic’s effect. Forced to squash that down, he promised the wild part of himself that it would get its release eventually. They just had to watch, wait, until the right moment to release that inner rage. Destroying things right now would only reveal the fact the collar was losing its effect. It could ruin everything. He had to keep it together by any means necessary – even if that meant feeding the blood lust occasionally, just to keep it safely assured. Mortal blood sent him into a killing frenzy but fiend blood, fiend blood only brought a sense of deep, lustful, satisfaction. So, to give his roiling sense of rage something to wet its appetite for now, he simply became more likely to bite in bed. The King thought this was cute – he enjoyed biting Aphelios, leaving marks on him, so he took it that Aphelios had come around on the idea. Perhaps even learned the action from him and wanted to share what he’d gleaned from his master. Vladimir clearly enjoyed the influence he thought he had on Aphelios, praising him every time he picked up a new ‘trick’ or did an action of his own accord without being ordered. He took Aphelios’ wordless obedience as a sign of his own talent – that he Vladimir, had conquered Aphelios entirely and crafted him into the pet he desired. It was this sense of arrogant pride that would fuel the next stage in Aphelios’ plan to reclaim his life.</p><p>Six months into his ‘ownership’, Vladimir decided that it was time to reveal Aphelios to the world. Not that his entire court couldn’t see him at that first feast. Also they’d probably heard about him once he started slaughtering members of castle staff. However Aphelios hadn’t done that in quite some time, making him the picture of perfect obedience. Therefore it had finally become time for the King to bring his pet into the throne room with him. Aphelios had been passingly familiar with the term ‘audiences’ before the King brought him to one. He got the impression that it was some kind of meeting where Vladimir talked to the mortals he owned and organised all the events he liked to throw. He was almost right.</p><p>An audience with the King of Night was a very grandiose affair – enough that Vladimir had his own room dedicated to it. The extravagant hall was on the ground floor of the castle, and bore all the same style of decorations as the entryway. It was long thin room, lit by rows of red stained-glass windows detailing the King in various elegant if not heroic poses. Aphelios couldn’t help but notice that in each of the windows, the King’s appearance differed ever so slightly. Sometimes he had long hair that swirled about him in great curls across the window pane. Sometimes he had enormous red bat-like wings topped with golden hooks and claws – like he’d decided to hang upside down in a cave at some point in his long life. Occasionally he was just a dark red shadow with gleaming gold eyes and claws. In most of the glass images he was either crushing a foe, or had an array of simpering mortals at his feet. Yet even these mortals didn’t seem entirely constant. Their fashion changed the longer you walked down the hall – from armoured knights that looked nothing like the current guards to scantily clad young men and women with their whole bodies out on show. The coloured light streaming through these images left spots of dappled light all over the dark marble floor, reminding Aphelios of what it was like to walk through a forest with a thick tree canopy. Yet nothing seemed remotely natural about this place. A path of glittery red and gold tiles led from the tall double doors right up to the spire-like throne at the end of the unnecessarily long chamber. The throne was extremely tall – even compared to the height of the King. Two, perhaps three, Vladimirs tall, it looked like an immense golden spike against the darkness of the room. Set into its own marble dais, the seat was padded with red velvet as far as it needed to be, but the rest was just a golden pillar, imposing those who approached with its height. The path up to the throne was stationed with golden torch-holders, wreathed in blood-red roses. Aphelios had once leaned out to touch one and found that real blood dripped from the petals when he disturbed the blooms. Vladimir told him not to touch those again and he instantly obeyed. He didn’t want to know why a flower was emitting real mortal blood.</p><p>Vladimir kept him on a leash whenever he was brought into the audience room. He tied said leash to the arm of his throne, giving Aphelios no choice but to sit there and observe everything that happened. Terrified looking mortals would come up the path in a single-file line, stepping between the flickering red torches and bloody roses to address with the King with their concerns and pleas. Armoured guards would stand just out of the torchlight, to carry anyway Vladimir didn’t feel like dealing with. Sometimes they didn’t even manage to get their questions out. The King would take one look at his unwelcome guest and wave a clawed hand to dismiss them before they’d spoke. Sometimes he’d help the mortals who sought him out. Other times he just decided their woes weren’t his problem. He tended to prefer those who would offer him something in return for his assistance – be it a share of a farm’s harvest, or the recruitment of the requestee’s children. Successful visitors were often invited to that day’s feast, such events usually happening after an audience. They would be escorted off, gently this time, by the guards to be put somewhere and wait the King’s hospitality. Occasionally mortals would come by with no request at all. They would bring attendants with them carrying armfuls of fine cloth, barrels of wine, and other delights to place in worship at the King’s feet. Aphelios got the sense that Vladimir liked these guests most as he didn’t need to do anything in return. Those attendees also got to come to his feasts.</p><p>Aphelios watched this all happen from his large cushion on the throne’s dais. Feeling distinctly like another accessory to impress Vladimir’s guests, he had been given a large quilted pillow to sit on that was so big he could curl his entire body up on it without leaning over the edges. Sometimes Vladimir would lean down to stroke his hair or his horns. Occasionally, he would have Aphelios sit in his lap whilst he talked to the mortals. However what was always guaranteed was the fact that the King would dress him up before every one of these audience sessions. Aphelios would be bathed, painted and perfumed before being given one of any number of gauzy outfits to wear. These clothes tended to consist of bands or chains of metal – often inset with gem stones, that carried with them trains of silk or similarly translucent fabric. They would be fastened around his chest and hips, often leaving his legs and stomach exposed. Sometimes he could wrap the silk around himself, but otherwise he was forced to sit or lie there, covering his modesty the best he could with what fabric he’d been provided.  He noticed the more skin he exposed, the more likely it was that the mortals stared at him when they approached the King. They would sneak glances at him, even whilst trying to converse with the King. Vladimir would notice. Tease them for it in fact, by reaching down to pet Aphelios, by drawing the silks away from certain parts of his body and then touching him to claim Aphelios as his own.</p><p>In private meetings, he was even more inappropriate. There was a little lounge attached to the audience chamber where Vladimir held special “Private Audiences”. These were reserved for only his most affluent and influential of guests – where Vladimir would discuss things like trading for luxuries, collecting taxes and extending his reach to other mortal settlements. Those audience seekers were always invited to Vladimir’s banquets, usually given seats of honour amidst the crowds. They were also treated to a closer look at Aphelios. The young Nightbringer swiftly came to hate private audiences. Vladimir would sit him in his lap and just brazenly touch him if he thought their guest was interested in seeing that. Nothing seemed to be off limits in that room. Even the guest would be allowed to touch him if Vladimir was pleased enough with their work. Whilst being touched by the King still contained some pleasure, despite his thoughts now being his own, the touch of a stranger did not. Aphelios wanted to fight, run, cry, but he was still supposed to be under the effect of his collar. So he was forced to just sit there and submit as strange mortals felt up his chest and thighs in ways he certainly didn’t want them to. The King, thankfully, wouldn’t allow their touches to go anywhere intimate. However that didn’t stop him trying to show that side of Aphelios off. More often than not, Vladimir would sit him under the meeting table, expecting Aphelios to keep his cock in his mouth for the entirety of the proceedings. The merchants kept sneaking little looks at him under the tablecloth. All Aphelios could do was keep still and repeat his chant over and over. He was a person not a thing. He was a person not a thing! It was so easy to just sit here and let the King reduce him to his toy, his pet, but no! He couldn’t give up. Even this humiliation could be endured, even those lustful stares, if he could get free in the end.</p><p>In a cruel twist of fate, it was these private audiences that finally bought Aphelios his chance. After countless hours put on display, he learned something very important about how the King of the Night’s court continued to function. Quite simply, every visitor and courtier, every feast-goer and distinguished guest, idolised the King. They treated him with all the reverence one might give to a deity, hanging on his every word, obeying his every command as if they were wisdom from on high. When the King said kneel, they knelt. When they King said jump, they jumped. Whatever Vladimir wanted, he got from his adoring crowd of mortals, who would literally give up their own life-blood for a moment of his company. Aphelios noticed, across various feasts, that the mortals tried to copy Vladimir’s looks with their fashion. Long coats and high collars were all the rage. Both men and women often went without shirts, barely covering themselves in long leather outer-garments. Red, gold and purple were everywhere – clothing, dyes, make-up, accessories, there were even people who had named themselves or others over those colours. Countless people called Scarlet or Ruby or Violet entirely dressed in their namesake colour. Court fashion impersonated the King’s horns, with tall elaborate hair-styles and headpieces, all made to look like the wearers too had such fiendish characteristics. The mortals painted markings on their faces to match the colours on their lips. These people didn’t just want to serve the King, they wanted to be him. They liked what the King liked. Coveted what the King coveted. Wanted what the King had.</p><p>And this included Aphelios.</p><p>There was no denying, in any of their eyes, that he was the King’s possession. Because the King wanted him, because the King so openly touched and kissed and caressed him… they wanted that too. To his horror, the King started suggesting that he spent time with his guests, alone. He would leave Aphelios in rooms with the mortals whilst he went and attended to business elsewhere. At first Aphelios had tried to hide. Crawled under chairs and tables, glared and hissed at anyone who tried to get too close. However he swiftly realised that no one was actually touching him unless they had been given the King’s permission. They stared, sure, but they never did anything more than that unless given explicit consent.</p><p>Then, one day whilst Vladimir left Aphelios alone with some courtiers and a set of paints, one of them approached him.  </p><p>“Sweet fiend, you are truly the jewel in your Royal Master’s collection.”</p><p>Aphelios looked apprehensively up at the man – a finely dressed gentleman with a sword at his hips and a horned headdress on his brow.</p><p>“Such beauty unlike any that has reached our distant shore,” the man continued much to the attention of his fellows, “How I long to seek the gentle touch reserved only for our Great King. What may I do, what favour do I owe such beauty, in return for a single kiss?”</p><p>Aphelios stared at him, wide-eyed. Do? Favour? Kiss? What was he saying?</p><p>“Favour?” he repeated softly, nervously.</p><p>The room instantly hushed at the sound of his voice.</p><p>“He speaks!” cried the man, “Oh perilous beauty, I would give you anything you desire for one of your sweet kisses!”</p><p>Anything?</p><p>Wait.</p><p>“Would…you fetch me something from outside?” Aphelios tried, excitement mounting in his chest as he realised what this could mean. What this mortal could do for him for something as trivial as a kiss.</p><p>“Of course, my sweet!”</p><p>Oh heavens, was this really happening?</p><p>In slightly shaking hands, Aphelios turned the painting he’d been working on during the meeting with Vladimir. There was a series of ‘oohs’ from the assembled mortals.</p><p>“There was a flower that grew near my home,” he told them, glancing around the room to let them all know this offer was on the table, “So small, but so fragrant… Their beauty, their scent on the breeze, it is one of the things I miss most now I belong to the King.”</p><p>The gentleman was already nodding eagerly in agreement.</p><p>“If you manage to bring me one of these flowers, I will certainly give you a kiss,” Aphelios told him, “Perhaps even a kiss for each bloom you can bring me. B-But don’t let the King know, please… He doesn’t like it when I dream about home.”</p><p>He bashfully glanced up at them all from under his eyelids, opening up the invitation to everyone present. If being shy and beautiful was his way to obtain Noctum flowers, then he’d commit to the part with his entire being. They desired him, that much was plain across their faces. Vladimir had paraded him in front of him enough times for them to know what he with the King. Now however, well, he was already one person’s plaything. He could hardly be debased any further.</p><p>“If…if you bring me a basket full, I might consider….something more.”</p><p>He parted his legs a little, fiddling with the silks that lay between them.</p><p>The gentleman’s mouth opened in silent joy, his eyes shining with the promise of this most pleasurable of exchanges. Everyone else in the room was now murmuring amongst themselves, eyes glancing to what little extra skin he had exposed with his movements.</p><p>“Oh, my sweet fiend!” the first man proclaimed, “I will go forth and seek these blossoms for you! Tell me, where might they be found?”</p><p>He told them how to find the Noctum flowers, their preferred growing spots in the mountains, even going as far as giving them his paintings so they could recognise the flowers correctly. As he was certainly the most eager, Aphelios made to sure deliberately brush his fingers against the gentleman’s hand as he passed him his painting.</p><p>“Please don’t tell Master,” he begged him in a whisper, “Otherwise we may never get to see each other again.”</p><p>The mortal was besotted.</p><p>All the way through the feast that night, the gentleman, who Aphelios learned to be a local Lord, kept glancing up at him where he sat by Vladimir’s side. He snuck him little smiles around his glass, as they enjoyed the delights of this particular banquet.</p><p>That group of mortals was the first, but not the last Aphelios decided to try his new gambit on. Rumour had clearly spread about the castle that the King’s pet was offering kisses in exchange for a particular flower. He had messengers come up to him, when he was alone in his room or a corridor, and beg him for a painting of the flower in question. Whenever he was left alone with Vladimir’s admirers, they would swiftly turn their attentions to him, begging for the so-called secret to unlocking his affection. Needless to say, Aphelios leant into this interest, hard. He no longer inwardly complained about the revealing outfits the King put him in. Leaning into their allure, he remembered everything Vladimir has said looked cute or sexy about him, and tried to slip those actions into his body language. From long desirous glances, to caressing himself when the King’s back was turned, he drew attention like moths around a flame. For everyone who would then approach him about his provocative behaviour, his answer was the same. Bring me my flowers, don’t tell the King about this and I’m yours.</p><p>It took a while. There were a few disappointments – mortals bringing back the wrong flower and going home unkissed. Some just gave up, claiming the Noctum was simply too far away and too rare for them to get hold of. Yet there were powerful mortals amongst Vladimir’s court. Mortals with money, connections and plenty of both. Mortals who could pay other mortals to do the searching for them. It was from a merchant that Aphelios received his first Noctum flower. It was a little battered from the journey but there was no denying it was real thing. He sequestered the flower away in his clothing before planting a delicate kiss to the man’s cheek.</p><p>“Thank you, sir. You’re most kind.”</p><p>The man looked immensely pleased with himself as he sat back down. His friends looked at him with envy in their eyes. It seemed once one mortal managed to get hold of Noctum, others had pestered him for the details of its location. Every other meeting or so, Aphelios was slipped another of the delicate blooms, never in perfect condition but toxic nevertheless. In return he would press kisses to their cheeks, brows, and in the case of one man who brought him a whole posey, sat in his lap as he allowed him to kiss with tongue.</p><p>Unfortunately the Noctum flowers came so dried out, he needed more than usual to create his regular dosage. Whilst every petal was poison, their effectiveness dulled over time. He needed the widest sharpest connection to make contact with Alune, meaning every new bloom was a relief but also an immense frustration. Now he had Noctum, there was also the matter of hiding it – a difficult feat considering that the King just liked to stride into his room unannounced. He couldn’t put the flowers anywhere visible, but he couldn’t allow them to be damaged even further. The solution came in the form of the barely used bed in his room. Using a single claw, he delicately cut a slit in the back of plush lining of his headboard. The contents were full of downy feathers, easily creating a cushioned layer for him to bury his Noctum in. Then he could gently peel the fabric back up, and the headboard was back to its regular state. The King was never going to look behind his headboard for anything. He never did anything with Aphelios in his Aphelios’ bed anyway.</p><p> Vladimir appeared to be entirely ignorant of the scheme unfolding beneath his very nose. In fact he was granting Aphelios more freedom, more time alone, the longer he remained obediently in his care. He’d noticed Aphelios’ slightly more promiscuous behaviour, but instantly assumed that was for his delight rather than anyone else’s. Going as far as having him some new clothing tailored to celebrate his pet’s sexual confidence.</p><p>“You learn so well my pet,” he congratulated Aphelios when the new silk underthings were finished, “Truly you have been taught by the best and flourished because of it.”</p><p>Little did the King know that Aphelios was counting down every moment towards his reunion, and hopefully, his flight to freedom. Progress was slow, one or two flowers at a time, but it was definitely progressing – giving Aphelios more hope than he’d felt in a long time. Nothing felt so bad when he knew it would be over soon. No more being put on display, no more being treated like a toy in the name of long threesomes, no more being led around like a dog on his leash. He was about to show them all what a Nightbringer he was! He just needed a few more flowers.</p><p>Out of all his many admirers, the one Aphelios sought most fervently, the one he scanned for in every crowd, was the Lord who started this whole plan off. For many months there was no sign of him. He was utterly absent from Vladimir’s court for so long Aphelios began to wonder if anything had happened to him. Yet he worried in vain. One warm summer’s evening, a bird appeared at Aphelios’ window. At first, he stared at it, wondering why someone had put a little hat on a bird of prey. Then he realised there was something attached to a pouch on the bird’s leg. He opened the pouch to find a note, a note from the mortal Lord. He was seeking his own private audience with Aphelios, away from the prying eyes of the court.  Trying not to look too eager, Aphelios met him in the empty private audience chamber. He knew for the fact that there was no audience today, and the King barely touched the place when he didn’t have to. So he donned one of his more revealing outfits before slipping downstairs, careful to avoid both guard and servant as he did so.</p><p>When he arrived, the mortal was already waiting for him. He had dared to sit in Vladimir’s throne, arms on each of the rests and legs astride as if he owned the seat. Aphelios closed the door behind him, before turning and immediately spotting the wicker basket between his feet. There was a chequered cloth over the top, but the smell was unmistakable. A basket… a whole basket of Noctum?! This was it! This had to be it! Oh, the time had finally come!</p><p>Well.</p><p>He was going to have to fuck this man first.</p><p>But then!</p><p>The mortal had a disappointingly small cock compared to what Aphelios was used to. Though how could a mortal compare to the twin attentions of an ancient Nightbringer King and his similarly powerful Dawnbringer husband? Admittedly it was fun and rebellious to sleep with another man atop of Vladimir’s throne. So he  made a good show of enjoying himself as he rode the man until he passed out from orgasming too hard. He regarded the unconscious mortal with a faintly curious stare once he lay, limp and covered in both their cum, but with an immensely satisfied look on his face. Perhaps this was why mortals and fiends didn’t usually have relationships? Did that usually happen? Ah whatever! The Lord had served his purpose. Aphelios rolled him off the throne and under the table in case anyone came in and found him there. Without giving him so much of a second thought, he grabbed the basket and went running back upstairs. He didn’t consider what he should do next until he had stuffed the entire contents of the basket into the back of his headboard.</p><p>Oh Chaos and Fury, he had done it! He had enough Noctum! The urge to start shovelling flowers down his throat gripped him hard, but part of him wanted to think tactically about this. Alune would be able to reach him when the moon was out, but there was no guarantee he could be in his room when that happened. Most nights he had to report to the King’s bedchambers for whatever  had planned until dawn. But what if he just didn’t?</p><p>What if he just said no.</p><p>It was evening now. Just past eight according to the bell that had rung earlier. Summer drew out the day unnecessarily long but the horizon was already filled with the pinks and purples that shepherded in the night. He hadn’t heard from the King since lunchtime. He hadn’t seen either fiend or angel since dinner. Of course there was always a chance someone could burst in on him as he sat and dithered here but… Oh he couldn’t wait much longer! He needed his other half like he needed to breath. He had been kept waiting long enough!</p><p>He pulled a fistful of Noctum flowers out from behind his bed and stuffed them into his mouth.</p><p>The agony!</p><p>That sweet oh so familiar agony!</p><p>Aphelios started wolfing down flowers like a fiend possessed. Before he would put them in water and make himself a drinkable poison, however he needed no such luxury here. He chewed and swallowed, chewed and swallowed, even as his body was consumed with the searing pain that lit every one of his nerves with its own special kind of torment. Even as his extremities burned, even as his mouth bled, even as his stomach convulsed and churned, he kept shovelling more Noctum through his fangs. Falling to his knees, he felt the gory remains of his tongue drip purplish blood over his lips, and even that didn’t dissuade him.</p><p>Sister! His thoughts cried, shoving his awareness against that part of his soul that had stood empty for so long. Alune! Sister! I’m here! I’m here! It’s me! Your other half!</p><p>
  <em>“PHEL?!!!”</em>
</p><p>Aphelios burst into tears as that familiar voice echoed round his head, an ever so beloved presence making itself known in his mind. She was so bright and warm, filling his thoughts with her love, her relief, her joy at being able to connect with him again.  Something clicked into place, the empty feeling that had so long hung heavy in his chest was gone. She was back! His other half, his sister, his Alune!</p><p>
  <em>“PHEL IT’S YOU OH MY STARS OH ITS YOU ITS YOU ITS YOU!”</em>
</p><p>They yelled nigh-incomprehensible thoughts at each other as they revelled in their connection made anew. Thankfully, they didn’t need words to truly communicate how they felt.  The out-pouring of love between them was enough to drive Aphelios to desperate ecstatic weeping.</p><p>“<em>Phel I’m so so sorry!”</em> Alune managed, when some of the initial rush subsided, “<em>For everything, for believing in those lies, for abandoning you in that place, for not being the sister you deserve. Oh I thought that would be the last time we ever spoke. I thought you were lost forever and I… I would never get to tell you how sorry I was. How much…how much I care for you, oh Brother, oh Phel… I’ve never felt so empty, so alone, and I did this! I did this to us! I love you and I doomed you to…to this place! How can I live with myself after-”</em></p><p>The King and Grand General did this to us, he told her wordlessly, they drove us apart.  They poisoned me against you… even if some of your ideas were wrong, I…Sister I forgive you, I love you and I forgive you and I will always forgive you but you’re not to blame for any of this! It’s them that drove us apart. They cured the Noctum, they cut me off from you, they kept me as a pet! And they did, for so long but… we’re together now. We’re together now and you can help me get out of here!</p><p><em>“Yes!” </em>Alune replied, she too sounded like she was sobbing, <em>“Yes Brother! Oh, I was so close to doing something utterly drastic but now you’re here and…and we can work together! Just like we’ve always done, just like it’s meant to be!”</em></p><p>Can you get me out of here? He asked her, willing for her to know something, anything, that could make his escape from this fortress that bit easier.</p><p><em>“Oh Brother, I can,”</em> she said, “<em>I can do more than that. I can bring you back to the temple. I can bring you back to me, in person, we can finally be together as we should always have been!”</em></p><p>Oh this was more than he’d ever hoped for! He’d never seen her in person before, just her spirit, just the image of what she was doing in his mind. To actually be with her, hug her…it was beyond his wildest dreams.</p><p>
  <em>“Do you trust me Brother?”</em>
</p><p>Yes. Of course! Despite their disagreements, despite their differences in upbringing, despite the harshness of their parting – Aphelios trusted her with all his heart and soul. Though his body ached with poison, his mind sung with their reunion. How could anything be better than this? How could he have ever thought he could replace the love of his other half with baseless affection? There was no one, no one more special to him than his sister, his other half.</p><p><em>“This may seem like madness,” </em>Alune told him, <em>“But…I have sent an army of Dawnbringers towards the King’s Castle.”</em></p><p>What?!</p><p><em>“I didn’t know what else to do!” </em>she exclaimed, <em>“I didn’t think there was any hope of seeing you again so…so I begged whoever would listen for help. At first it was just one visitor at the temple but…more and more came. They wanted everything I knew about the King of Night’s castle and I gave it to them in the hopes they could bring you back to me. They’ve been looking for him for over a millennium!”</em></p><p>When were they coming? How far were the army away by now? Did they know her brother was a Nightbringer? Surely, they were going to kill him on sight?!</p><p><em>“They left three days ago,” </em>Alune told him, <em>“They could be with you at any moment. But that’s not all Brother! I-I have a way to get you out of there before they even arrive! An enchantment! A forbidden spell from the very depths of the temple archives designed to share our power with the mortals. I-I was going to try it regardless, but now I can channel it through the connection between our souls!”</em></p><p>He listened to her plan with baited breath. It did indeed sound like madness. A leap of faith beyond any other but… When had she ever failed him before? They had fought together countless times, his body and her magic. Her ability to channel through him was perfect so…so why not this time?</p><p><em>“Go to the highest point of the castle you can reach,” </em>Alune instructed, <em>“Go as quickly as you can. The army could be there soon and…even I can’t protect you from that many angels.”</em></p><p>Aphelios got to his feet, feeling that familiar surge of magic coursing through his veins, chasing after the poison until his fingertips shone with a golden glow. He had consumed so much Noctum that the connection with Alune felt a foot wide. This was not a trickle of power, but a surge, the floodgates bursting opening as she channelled the flow of Order through his shaking body. His chakram formed in one hand, just as he felt the weight of the rifle rest at his back.</p><p><em>“Go!” </em>Alune urged him, <em>“We’re not going to get another chance!”</em></p><p>Aphelios stuffed the last few Noctum into his mouth, chewing hard as he turned to the door of his room. Feeling taller, stronger, more powerful than he’d done in years, he strode over to the exit. Reaching for the handle just as the door opened outwards.</p><p>“Pet, it’s time for your…”</p><p>Aphelios stared at Vladimir.</p><p>Vladimir stared at Aphelios, standing tall, bearing two gleaming golden weapons.</p><p><em>“RUN</em>!” Alune screamed.</p><p>Aphelios didn’t give the King a chance to comment on his appearance. Eyes agleam with newfound power, he barrelled past the shocked form of his ‘master’ and sprinted down the corridor. His heart raced as he made a direct path for the closest staircase. Alune said up. So up it was.</p><p>“GET HIM!” Vladimir bellowed from down the corridor behind him, “GUARDS! EVERYONE! STOP HIM!”</p><p>A bell, loud enough to rattle to door frames he passed, started clanging somewhere overhead. Aphelios didn’t have time to work out the specifics. He didn’t really have time to look where he was going either as suddenly there was a snarling fiend in hot pursuit. Vladimir seemed have transcended the need to run, his lower body a swirling mass of blood and gore as he shot after the fleeing Aphelios. The younger Nightbringer knew better than to stop and fight as he furiously legged it up the first staircase he encountered. The King was far too old, far too powerful for him to stand a chance in a one-on-one battle. Mortals he could slice down. Guards he could knock aside. But not him, not an ancient Lord of Chaos. It was either escape or die, a screaming tornado of blood and claws at his back.</p><p>He took the steps three at a time, making great leaps as the sound of Vladimir’s yells reverberated around the hallway he’d just vacated. A cluster of mortals made the mistake of coming out to see what the fuss was about. Aphelios thrust his chakram into their midst, felling one and making the others scatter as he pounded down corridor after corridor, desperately seeking another way up.</p><p>A tidal wave of blood met him as he started trying doors. Realising he had no time for guesses, he carried on running, thankfully meeting the base of a grand set of steps as Vladimir surged forth with the force of his gory tide.</p><p>“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”</p><p>Aphelios took a pot shot, flinging his chakram behind him as he ran up the next set of steps with all the strength and speed he could muster. He spotted the rail of a balcony ahead, leaping for it and swinging himself over the gilt bannister and up onto the floor below. There he almost skidded on loose carpet, but even that failed to slow him down. Hearing the stomp of armoured guards approaching, he chose another corridor at random and sped off before anyone could see him choose. For a moment he lost sight and sound of Vladimir as he sped up a spiral stair he hoped would lead him through a tower and to even greater heights. Yet in his haste to leave, he had failed to recognise in which direction he was headed. There was the creak of a door opening and a horribly familiar voice asked:</p><p>“Anyone going to explain why that infernal bell is going?”</p><p>Aphelios stared at the Grand General, sparing only a second before he fled. Swain merely watched him go, thundering away from the angel’s study as he jumped another rail and up the next set of stairs.</p><p>It didn’t look like the General would remain clueless for very long. As Aphelios sprinted through an art gallery, toppling plinths as he went, he heard Vladimir’s voice boom from goodness knows where, magically magnified a hundred-fold.</p><p>
  <strong>“MY FIEND IS ESCAPING, RETURN HIM OR FACE MY WRATH!”</strong>
</p><p>Aphelios’ heart thudded somewhere near his throat as he lost himself to a labyrinth of staircases and corridors. How did he even know he was making progress?! He could be going anywhere! This place was a maze, a complete mess of goodness knows what for goodness who!</p><p><em>“Just climb!” </em>Alune assured him, <em>“Just- DUCK!”</em></p><p>Aphelios flung himself at the floor just in time for a bolt of bright blue soared over his head. He rolled forward back onto his feet before skidding around another corner, not stopping to see what or who that was.</p><p>“He’s not far!” he heard Vladimir call, “Cut him off at the library!”</p><p>No idea where the library even was, Aphelios just kept going. Tearing through passage after passage, he send his chakram ahead as a group of guards tried to bar his next ascent. When they refused to budge, he jumped, grabbing one mortal by the helmet and swinging them into the assault of their fellows. The mortals descended into a pile of crashing flailing metal plate, enabling him to leap from them, off the wall to their side and up the stairs behind them. Leaping rather than running, he found the floor above carpeted like the last but no less indicative to which direction he should be going. So he just darted to one side, no choice left but to keep on going.</p><p>Hoping beyond hopes he had lost Vladimir and Swain, Aphelios found himself in a wide corridor lined with suits of armour. Well, at least there was only one way to go from here! Free of assault just for a moment, he felt Alune swap the rifle for a smaller gun and inwardly thanked her as he crashed through the locked door at the end of the room.</p><p>“There!”</p><p>Ah.</p><p>The library.</p><p>Racing between pillars of roiling blood, springing off walls and rolling around corners, he pushed himself to the limits of his supernatural speed. Setting traps as he took stairs two at a time, he left a turret to fire on a nearby windowsill as he heard footfalls thundering up the stairs behind him. He still had no idea where he was going except up, dodging any attempt made, mortal, fiendish or divine, to stop him in his tracks. The King and his General were clearly using their superior knowledge of the castle against him. Aphelios slid under a torrent of snow-white ravens that suddenly burst through a nearby window, firing shots at the figure that materialised from the shroud of feathers behind him. The ground beneath him shone with a brilliant blue light as Aphelios went from the slide into a roll, narrowly avoiding the surge of ice-cold magic. Bursting through a heavy wooden door, Aphelios found himself on one of the many walkways that crossed between spires. A quick glance up told him he had ascended half the height of the castle. Alune had said he needed to get to the very top.</p><p><em>“Look out!”</em> she warned him.</p><p>A dozen heavily armoured guards stormed through the door at the opposite end of the walkway. Aphelios glanced over his shoulder and saw that a faint red glow was now seeping through the wreckage left behind him. Alune put his sickle in his left hand as he sized up the opposition ahead of him. The lightness of the weapon would give him the extra speed he needed. With mortals ahead and the King no doubt behind, did he really have a choice?</p><p>The length of the walkway blessed him with enough distance for a decent run up. Charging at the mortals, Aphelios struck with his blade just in time for one guard to raise their shield. Yet it had all been a feint. Aphelios used the shield as a ramp to launch himself over the heads of the first set of mortals, using the helms of others as stepping stones across their blockade. Whilst the mortals tried to work out what had just happened, Aphelios tore through the next door and up another long spiral staircase.</p><p>He had a brief minute or two of respite. Dashing up the stairs, he bent onto all-fours, tapping into the wild part of him that was desperate for a faster ascent. Yet, even his natural instincts had failed to recall that one of his captors was an angel. Though he had never seen the Grand General’s wings, it had been naïve to assume he didn’t have any. A blast of blue light crashed through a small window, narrowly missing his legs as he grabbed hold of an upper landing and hauled himself up. The landing had yet another window, larger this time, and through this he spotted the brilliantly shining form of Swain, pointing at him through the glass. Aphelios didn’t wait to find out what that gesture meant. He sprinted over to the next set of stairs, ducking and diving around each window he met as the General shot blast after blast into this rapidly-shrinking cage of a tower. What felt like many floors up, Aphelios was met with a choice – continuing up this circling death-trap, or attempt another walkway? He sprinted towards the door only find his way blocked by an immense puddle of blood covering most of the stonework in front of him. He made to close the door again, but it was too late, the King sprang at him from the ground, teeth and claws bared. There was still no way Aphelios could beat an older fiend in hand-to-hand combat. Yet there was no denying that he was faster on his feet than either of his assailants. He leapt, grabbing the banister of the steps above and flipped over Vladimir and stair alike.</p><p>This turned out to be the correct choice. Though the King was in hot pursuit, and he was still being blasted from outside, Aphelios had unknowingly found the stairs leading up to the highest accessible point in the castle. He didn’t run up the stairs, so much use them as an incredibly elaborate ladder. Only using the spiral for its intended purpose when there wasn’t a rail or ledge for him to grab. The distance of his captors behind him could be measured by their glow – be it the crimson of Vladimir or the blinding white from Swain outside. Every time it got that bit brighter, Alune urged him on, even as his heart felt like it was pounding in his throat. The stairs ended at a series of double doors. Aphelios kicked one open and ran out onto a snowy platform, so high above the ground that the trees and out-buildings below were but coloured specks in the distance. Yet that didn’t stop the pursuit. Aphelios toppled a chimney breast as he fired shots at the approaching Dawnbringer, who settled on the roof with a barrage of blue bolts. He continued firing as he backtracked towards the edge of the rooftop, lined with a low wall made of jagged brick to create a crenelated battlement. He reached the outer wall, just as he heard a series of trumpeting calls from overhead.</p><p><em>“They’re here!” </em>Alune called. </p><p>Swain stopped in his tracks as Vladimir joined him, huffing and puffing as he appeared atop the ramparts too.</p><p>“What the-“</p><p>The sound of drums joined the trumpets as hundreds of silhouettes emerged from the direction of the road.  Aphelios saw the shimmer of many coloured wings, an array of blues, whites and golds, cresting the horizon as the army beat a fanfare across the sky.</p><p>“Well, fuck,” Vladimir stated, glancing at Swain, “Look like your lot is here.”</p><p>“They’re not my lot,” Swain bit back, “And aren’t you forgetting something?”</p><p>As one they turned back to Aphelios.</p><p>Stood on the very edge of the rooftop, over a drop of hundreds of feet, there was nowhere left for him to run. They must have noticed this, for they approached him almost casually, slow steps towards where the panting fiend was now balanced on the brick work.  They fixed him with thoroughly unimpressed looks, as if how dare he lead them on a merry chase like this.</p><p><em>“Are you ready?” </em>Alune asked as the King and General cornered him. From high above, Aphelios could hear the beat of hundreds of wings as the Dawnbringer Army advanced on the King of Night’s Castle. Stepping up onto the highest ledge the wall had to offer, he turned back to face his pursuers, staring down at Vladimir and Swain as they stood, glaring at him and the advancing flock of angels. Aphelios’ weapons fizzled into sparks as he spread his arms wide, palms open, fingers spread as he cut a dark cross against the horizon. Hundreds of feet off the ground, the sunset over the mountains had never looked more beautiful. The night was almost upon them, and with it, this fiend’s salvation.</p><p>“You would choose certain death over us?” asked Swain, his horde of snow-white ravens settling on the rooftop around them.</p><p>“What do you think you’re doing?!” Vladimir demanded, gesturing at the angels, “Get down from there before-!“</p><p><em>“When I say let go,” </em>Alune reminded him, “<em>On three… Three.”</em></p><p>A horn went off from above. The Dawnbringers would be here in a matter of moment. Aphelios felt a surge of Alune’s magic fill his chest with warmth.  </p><p>
  <em>“Two.”</em>
</p><p>Taking a deep breath, he fixed the pair in front of him with a pair of single-fingered hand gestures he’d learned from watching the mortals.</p><p>
  <em>“One.”</em>
</p><p>He leant back.</p><p>
  <em>“Let go!”</em>
</p><p>Aphelios fell.</p><p>Toppling backwards from the ramparts, he surrendered everything he had to that power in his chest. Mind, body and soul, all were lost to the air that whipped by him as if caught by a storm. He plummeted foot after foot, yard after yard. Shooting past window after window, floor after floor, as the very fabric of his being began to flicker with a blinding white light. It was consuming him – a blazing white comet tore down the side of endless spires. Aphelios closed his eyes as sudden bursts of white-hot flame shredded the back of his tunic.</p><p>“RISE!”</p><p>He screamed with not one, but two, voices. Rose with not one body, but two, enshrouded by a pair of enormous white wings. He could see Alune, or her hair at least, whip around him as they shot upwards with all the force of cannon fire.  He could feel his back-muscles move even though he had surrendered complete control over his body. Their wings beat with such ferocity he swore they were trying to tear themselves from his shoulder blades. However he trusted Alune with all their soul, trusted she could carry him away like this.  As they rose high above the ramparts they’d just vacated, high above the stunned forms of his captors, their wings grew in size. Spreading violet plumage amidst the shimmering white.  Yet even this couldn’t slow their ascent. They shot past the castle, past the Dawnbringers, and over the snowy peaks of the mountaintops. Alune had their gaze set ahead, so there was little Aphelios could do to see how far they were getting from the castle. Yet the mere knowledge, the fact they were getting away from that horrible place, brought him more joy than he’d felt in months. Their hearts sang as one, knowing that the dreams of those deceivers, those selfish men, would soon be divine ash. He was free. No, they were free.</p><p>And they were going home.</p><p>Together.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>